


Rain Drops, Whiskey, and Cute Kids

by BlueRunawayMoon



Series: Sterek Drabble [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Derek is a Failwolf, Derek is a Softie, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Being an Idiot, Stiles is Legal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRunawayMoon/pseuds/BlueRunawayMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek returns the night a storm rolls into Beacon Hills. Weeks later someone unexpected shows up, and Stiles is forced to come to terms with his own feelings for the werewolf that he had never really forgiven for leaving in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Be careful What You Wish For

Derek came back to Beacon Hills the same night a thunder storm rolled in. Stiles had been on his way to Deaton's to pick up something Scott had left behind at the Clinic. He had already been out picking them up some burgers before they kick started the weekend much the same way they did all weekends. Locked up in Scott's room playing video games and watching some horrible Netflix movies hours on end until they finally passed out on the floor. So Stiles had been in a rush to get back to his best friend's house, and as such when he pulled into the Clinic hadn't truly been paying attention - as he sometimes did - or he would have noticed what he liked to call Derek's 'Mom Car', which he ran right by on the way to the Clinic door. 

 

All but stumbling into the dryness of the Clinic Stiles had ran a hand through his drenched hair, slicking the locks back while water droplets traveled down his cheeks and neck. Wiping his wet hands on equally wet jeans he had called out Deaton's name as he headed to the door to lead him towards the back. And he  _knew_ that he had opened the door. He remembered grasping the cold metal and pulling. Yet somehow when he stepped through he found himself colliding with what felt like a brick wall. He grunted, and would have fallen on his ass were it not for the hands that grabbed his arms and steadied him.

 

Suddenly he was staring into a familiar pair of kaleidoscope eyes, an unwavering gaze and thick downward brows. Stiles felt his heart tick up a beat and moved slowly backwards, aware of Derek's hands as they slid down his arms, finally releasing at Stiles wrist's. His fingers twitched almost as if they had longed for the man's touch to remain just a moment longer, to slide down further and feel his thumbs ghost alongside his palms. The urge was embarrassing and Stiles was sure Derek could smell it on him as the man's nostril's flared. 

 

"You're back." Stiles said, finally finding his voice. It was a bit off tough, and he cleared his throat. He realized then that just because Derek was there didn't necessarily mean that he was back for good. "Or are you just passing through?" The last part came out a little more snarky than he had intended, and he looked away when Derek frowned. 

 

Derek was silent in front of him a moment, before Stiles heard him shift on his feet. "Yeah. I'm back."

 

Stiles' gaze jumped back to his, surprise evident on his face. At that time a droplet of water ran down from his temple and cheek, tickling across his jaw and onto his neck. Derek's eyes zoned in on the entire process with a scrutiny that made something warm pool low in Stiles belly. After the droplet had finally soaked into the collar of his shirt, Derek's gaze finally lifted to his again and Stiles found heat climbing up his neck and high on his cheeks. He opened his mouth, struggling for words a moment, which yeah he understood was pretty rare. Since when was he ever at loss for words? He opened his mouth usually and word vomit spilled out uncontrollably. Hell sometimes he shocked himself by what he said. So how was it that he was standing there, completely silent.

 

Derek had been gone for six months. Stiles had not been in contact with him for four. Not like he hadn't tried, though. in the beginning they had kept in contract via text. It had started out as nothing but the once a week check up just to make sure each was alive, but then it had gradually shifted to twice a week. Three times a week. And then to random messages about nothing in particular. Actual conversations. Well, as much of a conversation as one could have with someone who seemed to have an aversion to words. But it had been something, and Stiles had come to look forward to Derek's text's. To staying up late in the night, his room illuminated by the soft glow of his cell. And then, suddenly, that had all stopped. Stile had continued trying to message him for a full week, worried that something had happened. He had even tried to call as a last attempt, something that they never did. But Derek had no answered, and Stiles did not try again.

 

A voice in the back of his head had said with snarky cruelty that Derek had just gotten tired of him. Why the hell would he want to talk to a seventeen year old kid anyways? Then the only thing Stiles could feel was anger. He all but growled any time anyone mentioned the man's name, and spit curses when Scott asked him why he was so mad. Eventually everyone had learned to just not talk about Derek in front of him. 

 

Suddenly though, it came back to Stiles, the fact that he was actually mad, and as he stood there and his frustration and anger began to boil, he watched Derek's scowl grow as he scented the change. 

 

"Well, how nice of you to show up after six fucking months. To what do we owe this honor?" Derek didn't even flinch at his words, just stood there and took them in stride while a familiar look of indifference settled over his features, and for some reason that just pissed Stiles off more. "Did you come back to tell us what you and Braeden no doubt discovered while skipping through the desert hand in hand? Cause we all know you can't take the time to send anyone a fucking text message!" Okay. Yeah. He needed to calm down or he was going to pass out.

 

"Derek?" The soft, feminine voice called out somewhere behind said Big, Bad and Leather Clad, and a moment later there she was, standing behind Derek and looking at Stiles with a frown. "Stiles?"

 

Stiles laughed. Loud. Which made no sense because nothing was funny. "Oh. Hey! Braeden. Good to see you alive and all that shit. I mean for a minute there I was a bit worried. But yeah. All's good I see." Stiles gave a bitter grin, nodding his head. "Okay! Well. This has been great, guys. I'll see you around. Or not. Whatever." And with that eloquent speech he spun around and may or may not have power walked the hell out of there. It wasn't until he was parked outside of Scott's house that he realized he had completely forgotten he had gone to Deaton's to grab something for Scott. Scott, the awesome guy he was, just took it for Stiles being Stiles, and nothing else was said on the matter. They spend the night killing each other in Mortal Combat and watching horribly bad horror movies.

 

Stiles did not tell Scott Derek was back.

 

*************

 

Scott found out that next night. Stiles didn't bother denying seeing him. What was the point. Scott would just pick up on the lie with his freaky wolf powers anyway. There was a pack meeting at Derek's loft. Stiles luckily had promised his dad some Stilinski bonding that night and used it as an excuse so he kissed Malia on her cheek and asked her to fill him in afterwards. Stiles was nose deep in some sausage and extra cheese pizza when his phone went off. He fumbled around a bit, licking grease from his fingers and attempting to dig his cell from between the couch cushions where it had fallen, while his dad eyed him in amusement. Glaring a the man he finally retrieved his cell and see's he has a text message from Derek.

 

For a good minute he spews and rages.  _Now_ the man was choosing to text him. Seriously?! Stiles will admit it. At the back of his mind he had always hoped that Derek's phone had just gotten destroyed somehow. After all with hunting down baddies and kicking ass, it tended to happen a lot. But now he knew the man had just decided to stop talking to him. And that fucking hurts. More than he'd like to admit. When he opens the message, and read 'Pack meeting. Get here.'; he may or may not have responded with a none to subtle 'Fuck You'.

 

****

 

I'm leaving, Stiles."

 

Stiles looked up from where he had been going over his math homework, finding Malia now standing by the bed. He frowned slightly at her. "Oh? Going home already?"

 

She gave him an almost pitying look and sighed. "No. I mean I'm leaving. As in Beacon Hills."

 

Now that...that had him sitting up, his attention caught. "What? What are you talking about?"

 

"Braeden's leaving. I asked her if I could go. To look for my mom."

 

Stiles stares, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide. Because this? He hadn't been expecting this. "What?! Wh-what about your dad? And school. And...you know, your friends?!"  _And me._

 

"My dad knows, Stiles. About me. About all of us. I told him."

 

Okay. What?! 

 

"He took it better than I thought he would. Sid he had always known something was different about me."

 

"And he's just going to let you go?!"

 

"He wasn't happy about it. Still isn't, really. But I'm eighteen now so it's not like he can really stop me."

 

Stiles stood, running his hand over his face and beginning to pace. "This is...I mean...why? Just - why?"

 

"I have to find her!" Malia cried out, desperate. "You don't know what it's like. There's apart of me that feels like I'll never really know myself until I find her. That once I do things will just..." She draws off with a sigh, shrugging. "Make sense."

 

Stiles wasn't sure why, but for some reason those words fucking cut. He gave a stiff nod, staring at the floor a long moment. "So I guess that there's nothing I can say that will make you change your mind hen?"

 

Malia eyes him, both of them quiet a moment before she shakes her head.

 

Stiles let's out a bitter laugh, nodding. "Alright. And what about...you know. What about us? What happens to us during all this?" She gives him that look again, and she doesn't' have to say anything for Stiles to understand. He nods again, pinching his lips into a tight line.

 

"I'm sorry, Stiles."

 

"No. No it's...it's whatever. You know? I mean you got to do what you got to do. So...yeah just..." He's just so very done with all of this. This entire 'girlfriend' thing. He's throwing in the fucking towel. Because by now he had to realize the universe is obviously trying tot ell him something. Stiles Stilinski was not meant for Happily Ever After.

 

"It's not like we'll never see each other again. And I'll call."

 

Stiles snorts. "Yeah. Okay. Just don't let Derek rub off on you cause that's what he said before proceeding to never speak to me for four months' straight."

 

"Derek's not coming."

 

Stiles pauses, looking up with a frown. "I'm sorry? What?"

 

"Derek. He's not going. Just me and Braeden."

 

That...Stiles had no idea what to think about that. Had the man and Braeden stopped...fuck were they even dating? Friends with benefits? Those two had always been confusing as hell.

 

"Stiles you mean a lot to me." 

 

Her words should have pissed him off. They were so typical, after all, but he could hear a sincerity in her voice and suddenly he wasn't angry or bitter anymore. Just sad. Because despite everything Malia was his friend, and she was leaving. His sadness must have raged strong, because the next moment she was walking around the bed and putting her arms around him.  Stiles let her, pulling her into his arms and holding tight.

 

"I'm sorry." Malia whispered against his shoulder. "I just have to do this."

 

Stiles sighed and tightened his arms, rubbing his cheek against her head. "I know. I'm just..I'm gonna miss you, you know?"

 

Malia left that morning. Everyone was there to see her off. A few tears were shed and there were lots of hugs all around. After she and Braeden had drove off into the sunset on Braeden's motorcycle, Stiles felt his eyes draw slowly to Derek, and found the man watching him. They stood like that a minute, and Stiles couldn't help but feel like Braeden and Malia's departure meant something now. Something that he couldn't quite figure out but which made his heart race in his chest.

 

Stiles looked away first.

 

 

****************

 

 

Stiles knew it was no big deal. He was just turning eighteen. Yet for some reason he had woken up that morning with an anxious flutter in his heart. His dad was awesome. Had a plate full of pancakes and bacon ready for him by the time he stumbled downstairs from his shower. They hung around the house a few hours, doing nothing more than watching movies and shooting the shit. When afternoon came around everyone started to appear, until the house was filled with loud, rowdy teenagers. The Sheriff hugged his son and issued a few empty threats at everyone before heading to work, and Lydia took that opportunity to blare some music while Stiles pulled out his dad's alcohol stash as well as some wolfsbane he had nabbed from Deaton so those of the furry nature could get nicely lit as well. 

 

Stiles was on his third glass when Scott started in.

 

"So. What's going on with you and Derek?"

 

Stiles groaned, nestling further into the couch while Lydia snickered at his side. He shoots her a glare before seeing that Liam is all but passed out against her. Turning, he looks at Scott and Kira on his other side, and frowns. "How the hell are we all fitting on this couch?"

 

Kira giggles at him, her eyes glassy, and Stiles realizes with a bit of a grin that they are all pretty much three sheets to the wind. "I have no idea what you are talking about, dude." He slurs.

 

Lydia rolls her eyes but Scott just pouts, like the adorable puppy he is. "Lies! Your mad. Still! You've never been mad this long. Not even when I shot you with that BB Gun when we were ten."

 

"You shot me in the dick!" Stiles protests loudly, flailing and forgetting about his drink in his hand. He splashes them all with whiskey and snorts in laughter. "Oops."

 

"It was accidental!" Scott cries out defensively, too far gone to notice the spill.

 

"Come on Stiiiiiiles!" Kira whines then, all but laying over Scott until she's looking up at him. "It's no fun when you're not there! Derek is so brooding and angry! We need you there to lighten him up!"

 

Stiles scoffs unintelligently at that a few moments. "As if I could!"

 

"Hey." Suddenly Lydia is grabbing his face and forcefully turning him to look at her, her braid a frazzled mess. "We're being serious here, you got that? Derek is driving us crazy. I don't care what stunted emotion crawled up your ass to live, but you have got to start coming to pack meetings again. Got that?!"

 

Before Stiles could pout and shake his head like a little kid, Lydia let out a noise that was a cross between a hiccup and a burp, and a look of pure horror came over her face that was so great they all spent the next few minutes teasing her relentlessly. 

 

As the night progressed, everyone got out the permanent markers and before long Liam was a human Etch-a-Sketch. Stiles was pretty proud of the cock and balls he had drawn on the kids cheek. The boy randomly woke with a loud snort at one point, and before anyone could move he was complaining about being hot and the next moment they were chasing after an only boxer clad Liam before he could run out the door.

 

Seriously! What was up with the dude and being naked?!

 

By the end of the night everyone was passed out in the living room, while Stiles lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He was still pretty toasted, but it had died down to a more calm, flushed face kind of thing. Liam started twitching in his sleep at the other end of the couch and Stiles poked him with a foot until the boy drifted off into soft snores again. 

 

Stiles held a pretty amulet that Lydia had given to him for his birthday, twirling the silver chain in his fingers and feeling the weight of the dark purple stone swing. She had gotten it at some shop a few towns over, had said that it reminded her of him. Stiles had no idea what that meant, but he found the stone pretty so it was all good.

 

Groaning softly he laid the cold chain against his flushed face, the fat amulet resting on his cheek. He knew he probably looked weird but he was too far gone to care. "Happy birthday." He whispered softly, staring at the ceiling still. "Guess I should make my birthday wish now, huh?" He gave a soft snort at his own melodrama, feeling foolish. Yet his mouth continued to move. "I wish...I wish...that I knew what I wanted. That I had someone here to tell me." The words were pulled from somewhere deep inside of him, a place that he kept hidden even from himself at times. 

 

As Stiles finally drifted off, he thought he may have felt a strange warmth against his cheek.

 

 

********************

 

Derek woke up for no reason what so ever. There were no sounds in his loft to have disturbed his sleep. He hadn't been dreaming or waking from a nightmare, either. He just...woke up. Opened his eyes and stared up at the high ceilings, and he had no idea why. It was more than just a little weird, so he shut his eyes again and forced himself to go back to bed.

 

The second time he woke up, it was because of a heart beat. A familiar, all over the place sound that had him frowning deep. Eventually he rolled out of bed, groaning at the sun's glare from the huge window. He really needed to get some curtains. Drape a blanket over it or something. Grabbing a shirt from the floor he pulled it on and padded barefoot over the cold floor to his massive door. He stood just in front of it a moment, his head cocked and listening. When he heard nothing but the continued beat he finally unlocked and pulled the door open, and frowned when he saw no one.

 

Then he looked down. 

 

Large, whiskey brown eyes stared up at him, almost with equal surprise to mirror Derek's. The kid was short, with a mess of long chocolate brown hair and was wearing some batman long sleeve pajama's that looked a bit too big for him, and he was looking up at Derek like he had absolutely no idea what to fucking do. Much like Derek's own expression. 

 

The boy shifted on his feet, blinking rapidly. "Hi?"

 

Derek arched a brow. "Hi?" What the fuck was going on? And why the hell was Derek just standing there? Snapping out of it Derek leaned out of the door way and looked down the hall. Which was empty. He turned back to the kid, who had begun to chew his thumb nail, and there was something so familiar about the way he looked standing there that Derek couldn't speak for a moment. Snapping out of it he bit out hi next words a little too harshly. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

 

The boy visibly flinched, tugging his pajama sleeves over his thin fingers and bunching them in his fists. "Genim." He whispered so softly that Derek almost didn't hear him -werewolf hearing and all. 

 

_What the hell was a Genim?_ When the boy blinked shyly up at him through thick lashes, Derek realized that was the kids name. He also realized he was scaring him. Sighing, Derek looked down the hall again before dropping down so he was on the same level as the boy. He had to remind himself that this was nothing but a kid. That he had to push aside his usual brooding gruffness in terms of something a little more relaxing and gentle. "Hey Genim. I'm Derek." He tried for what he hoped was not a creeper smile, and almost sighed in relief when the boy offered up a shy one in return. Once again there was something startling familiar about the look, but Derek couldn't place it. "So, you going to tell me how you ended up here?"

 

The boy lifted his hand to start chewing on his pajama sleeve, shaking his head. "I don't know. I just...I went to bed last night and then I got here."

 

Well that made no sense. And the boy couldn't live in the building considering Derek owned it. "Did you walk here?"

 

Again the boy shook his head, hair flying. "No. I just opened my eyes and I was here."

 

Derek smelled the tears before they even appeared in the boys eyes, and cringed. Because he was  _not_ equipped to handle this. 

 

"I just wanna go home." The boy buried his face in his sleeves as his shoulders shook, and there was something so wrong about the sight that before Derek knew it he had pulled the boy gently into his arms and was petting the back of his head.

 

"It's okay." He muttered. "We'll get you home, I promise. Why don't you come in and we can figure out what to do, okay?"

 

The boy shifted, lowering his fingers until just his eyes sowed, looking over Derek. "My daddy says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers and definitively not go in cars with them or in their house."

 

"Well your dad is a very smart man." Derek offered with a smile. "But I promise you can trust me, okay? And my name is Derek. See? Now we know each other so we're not strangers."

 

The boy looked from Derek to the loft, and then back again. He searched Derek a moment, clearly deciding what to do, before finally nodding. Derek grinned and stood up, deciding to leave the loft door open so the kid wouldn't be so freaked out. "I don't really have much furniture, but there's a chair near the wall if you want to sit there."

 

Genim looked around the loft with wide eyes before scrambling to the chair. "Why don't you have a couch or TV?" He asked as he fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, his legs kicking back and forth.

 

Derek took in the sight and grinned for some reason, feeling warmth bloom in his chest. "I guess because I'm too lazy to buy them." He picked up his cell and headed back over to the boy, kneeling in front of him again. "Alright, buddy. What's your parent's names? I'm going to have to tell the police something when I call them."

 

The boy perked up suddenly, his eyes wide. "My dad is a police officer! You can call him!"

 

Derek arched a brow. "Really? Well that's lucky, cause I happen to know the Sheriff. I bet he knows who you are, too. I can go ahead and call him and we can get you back home, how does that sound?"

 

"My dad's the Sheriff!" The boy all but shrieked, happiness heavy in his scent. "You know my dad?! I've never seen you before, though. And I know all my dad's friends."

 

Derek frowned, confusion lowering his brows. "Wait...the Sheriff is your dad? John Stilinski is your dad?"

 

The boy's grin grew even wider as he bobbed his head back and forth. Derek straightened, eyeing the kid with a frown. And that's when it hit him. The kid was the spitting image of Stiles. Exact same eyes, same upturned nose and lips. Even his face was dotted with small moles. Derek suddenly began to feel very uncomfortable. He looked through his contacts and called Stiles, hoping that for once the kid would stop ignoring him and answer. He got his wish. About two rings later Stiles picked up with a groan of pain, and Derek frowned. "Stiles?"

 

There was a pause on the line, and a sharp inhale followed by a colorful curse, and Derek rolled his eyes. 

 

"What the hell are you calling me for?"

 

Derek tried not to be bothered by the clear disdain in the boy's voice, but couldn't help it." Don't freaking hang up and just listen. There's some kid here who just showed up at the loft and he's saying the Sheriff is his dad."

 

"What? Are you trying to punk me or something? Cause I'm really not in the mood, man. I've got a hell of a hang over and I just want to go back to bed, preferably not on the couch cause Liam is naked again somehow and I'm sure my dad must be really confused--"

 

"Stiles! For the love of god shut up!" Derek hissed out, turning away from Genim as his eyes flashed blue in annoyance. "Look. All I'm saying is there's a kid here who say's he's the Sheriff's son. And even if he's not your dad still needs to get here and find where the kid came from."

 

Derek could hear more swearing and what sounded like a groan from Lydia.

 

"Jesus it's too early for this shit. Alright, fine. Do you know the kids name at least?"

 

Derek glanced down at the boy, who was looking up at him with wide eyes, and once again all Derek saw was a kid version of Stiles. It was incredibly eerie. "I didn't catch his last name, but he said his first was Genim."

 

Stiles was silent on the line a long moment, and Derek had thought maybe he had lost him when suddenly he was laughing, loudly. And it was not an amused laugh.

 

"Oh, that's a good one! What, did Scott drunk text you last night? Or maybe you guys set this up together? Either way it's hilarious! Oh, and one more thing, FUCK YOU!"

 

And with that the call disconnected. Derek stared down at his phone, his brows high. What the hell had just happened? What the hell was Stiles talking about? And the little shit had hung up on him! Growling, he pushed the redial option on his screen so hard that he heard it crack. Surprisingly, Stiles picked up on the first ring.

 

"OH MY GOD! Do you  _want_ me to kick you in the face the next time I see you, dude?!"

 

"Don't call me dude and you'd never be able to get your leg up that high anyways!" Stiles made a sharp gasping scoff as if he were actually insulted by that. "Now shut up and don't you dare hang up on me! There's a freaking kid here and your dad needs to come now cause I don't know what to do!"

 

"Dude I can't believe you are so on about this. Okay. You know what? I'll bite. Put the kid on the phone."

 

Derek immedietly turned and handed the boy the cell. "My friend is an idiot. Talk so he know's your real?"

 

The boy stared at the phone before bringing it tentatively to his ear. "Hello?"

 

"Oh my god did he really kidnap a little kid just to play a prank on me?!?!?!"

 

Derek swore sharply and grabbed the phone from where the kid had moved it from his ear, Stiles loud, shrill voice too much. "I didn't kidnap a kid you idiot! Now hurry up and get down here!" He hung up the phone, taking a full minute to calm himself down from the idiocy that was Sties. 

 

Sighing deep Derek turned back around slowly, finding Genim watching him with a curious, if not slightly nervous gaze. "Was that your friend?"

 

For some damn reason he froze up at the question, his face scrunching into a pained scowl. Because, honestly, he didn't know what the hell Stiles was to him. Aside from a pain in his ass of course. In the end he forced a grin and nodded, moving to ruffle the kids wild hair. "Yeah, he's a friend. You want something to drink?" As soon ashe askedthe question he regretted it, cause all he had was water. From the tapl and kids hated water, right? 

 

Luckily Genim just shook his head, pouting a bit in an irritated way as he tried to fix his hair, and damn was it adorable. Derek rolled his eyesat himself and looked away, feeling like a middle aged woman with baby fever. He had to get the kid out of here, and fast. 

 

"So the Sheriff should be here soon and then we'll get you back home, okay kid?"

 

Genim puffed out a breathe of air. "Don't call me kid. I'm not a baby you know." He glared his whiskey brown eyes when Derek just grinned down at him before blinking a bit and looking around the loft. "Do you have a dog?"

 

Derek was a bit taken aback by the question and arched a brow. "No. Why?"

 

Genim gave a carefree shrug. "I just thought it smelled like dog in here."

 

Derek's stare was about as dry as the Sahara.  Yeah. Some how, some way, this kid and Stiles were related. The similarities were too weird. So...did that mean John had a love child? Derek found himself far too intrigued by the notion, and blamed it on all the day time soap opera's he begrudgingly watched while on the road with Braeden. Not like he had much variety. And he mostly just kept it on for background noises while he read. But if he did glance up to find out exactly who Jessica had slept with or Chance had murdered, no one would ever know. 

 

Coming out of LaLa Land Derek noticed that Genim was staring up at him a little too intently and arched a brow. "What?"

 

The boy blushed deeply, but did not look away. "Does that hurt?"

 

Derek frowned at the odd question. "Does what hurt?"

 

"You're beard." At Derek's increased eyebrow raise the boy finally looked away, his feet swinging with a nervous intensity.

 

"Uh...no. why would it hurt?" Was this a normal question? Were kids this weird? Derek had a few memories of his little cousins but he couldnt remember them being this weird. 

 

Genim started to chew on his thumb nail again, darting shy glances up at derek. "I don't know. My dad doesn't have a beard. And it looks like it hurts. Can I touch it?"

 

Derek had no idea what the hell was going on. "You want...to touch my beard?"

 

Genim bobbed his head in a nod.

 

Derek resisted the urge to scowl and just gave a soft sigh, moving forward to kneel slightly in front of the kid. He waited, giving the kid a bit of a look when he just stared at him. Genim continued to chew on his nail but lifted his other small hand, and after a moment brushedhis finger tips just barely on Derek's chin. He paused immedietly before pressing a little harder, the beginning of a grin catching his lips.

"Its soft." He said, almost as if in awe.

 

Derek felt himself grin, his wolf releasing a deep sighing rumble in his chest at the touch. He watched the way Genim's lips pulled higher and his nose scrunched slightly as he ran his fingers along his beard, and he felt hmself taken back to a more carefree, child like time in his life. Where the world was still a beautiful place and he was happy. Feeling a sudden surge of playfulness bubble in his belly Derek jerked his head quickly towards the boy's hand and snapped at his fingers, laughing as Genim yelped and jerked his hand back. He settled back on his heels with a smile, watching as Genim laughed loud and free, his eyes shinning with light. When he was done he grinned at Derek a bit shyly, and Derek couldn't resist ruffling his hair yet again.  

 

He stood and dug his cell from his pocket, checking the time. John would be there soon, hopefully. Pulling up his Candy  rush app Derek handed his phone to Genim and told him to go wild. The boy, surprisingly, had never played the game, but Derek explained it to him easily enough and after that took his positionby the large window and stared down at the street, waiting.

 

 

It was about ten minutes later that Stiles came crashing threw the open door, followed by a slightly annoyed looking John. Derek tried not to cringe when Stiles eyes met him, but kind of could't help it. He hadn't expected Stiles to come so hadn't been able to prepare himself. But he quickly put on a mask of familiar indifference/annoyance, which Stiles scoffed at before jerking his gaze around the loft. 

 

"Where is the kid you kidnapped?!"

 

Before Derek could ereply John had a firm hand on stiles shoulder. "Now, son, we don't know if he actually kidnapped someone."

"Why else would a kid be here?" Stiles pointed to Derek's face. "That has Stranger Danger written all over it. No kid in his right mind is gonna willingly follow Derek anywhere."

 

"You've seen to do it a few times." Derek can't help but snark.

 

Stiles leveled him with a dark glare. "Usually to save your ass. And don't call me a kid!"

 

His words reminded Derek of what Genim had said earlier and he tried not to laugh. "Relax. The kid just went to use the bathroom." 

 

John sighed, moving forward. "So, how about you tell me exactly what happened?"

Derek opened his mouth to speak, but then he heard the bathroom door open and little feet shuffle out. And then John was turning and his eyes were huge, his mouth dropped open.

 

"Daddy!" 

 

Derek turned and watched as Genim all but ran and threw himself onto John, who caught him, though still a bit stunned, stumbling back.

 

Derek's brows rose. So the kid was actually his son? Who would have thought. He turned to look at Stiles and found him just standing there, his face white and mouth open, eyes huge. His hand was up and pointed to the kid, but he wasn't saying anything.

 

He didn't have to, though, because John chose that moment to pull the boy away from him slightly, searching his face with a shocked, confused expression. "Stiles?!" 

 

 


	2. One In The Same

This isn't happening. This  _can't_ be happening. It was logically impossible! Yet holy fucking shit there he was! Kid version of  _himself_! Stiles was literally looking into the past! And he was scared shitless. Because this?! This could not be good. In no way, shape or form could this be good. Kid Stiles was still pretending to be an octopus while John just stared down at him in wide eyed shock. "It's got to be some kind of shapeshifter!" Stiles shouted, a look of horror crossing his features. "A midget shapeshifter! Dad! Get it the hell away from you!"

 

John jolted, his eyes shooting wider. He held his hands out wide and shook himself, trying to dislodge the evil beast under the guise of a child Stiles, while the thing held on for dear life. It would have been hilarious under any other circumstance, but as it was it just scared the shit out of Stiles.

 

He cried out, scared for his dad, and ran forward to pry the little demon from the man. "Get off of him!"

 

Said little demon started screaming, slapping at Stiles face until Stiles dropped him with a grunt. Evil Child Stiles ran to Derek and clung to his legs while Derek just stumbled back a bit, staring down at the little devil with wide eyes. 

 

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?!" John bit out loudly.

 

"It's a freaking shifter!" Stiles yelled, looking around the room. "We just need to stab it with a silver blade!"

 

The shifter let out a strangled gasp, it's eyes shooting wide and it's body beginning to tremble.

 

"Stiles! I don't think it's a shifter." Derek bit out in a low, threatening voice before hesitantly reaching out to lay a reassuring hand on the kid's shoulder, because fine, the kids fear was awakening some instinctual need to calm him. Not weird or anything.

 

"What do you mean it's not a shifter?!"

 

"Shifter's wouldn't be able to duplicate your scent. And Stiles, this kid smell's like you. Exactly like you. Even his heart beat pattern is the same."

 

Before Stiles could get started on  _that_ weirdness in the book of Creepy Things That Derek Hale Knew, his dad was pushing past him and kneeling in front of the kid. "Are you telling me that this...this is really Stiles?"

 

"That's ridiculous! It can't be me!" Stiles scoffed, hating the way his dad was staring at the fake him with a look of wonder and something strikingly close to fondness. 

 

"Daddy..." The boy/monster whimpered softly, peeking from around Derek's legs. "Daddy I wanna go home."

 

John reached out carefully and ran his hand through the creatures long hair. The boy pouted, fisting his hand in John's shirt. "It's you." John whispered, a little amazed. "It's really Stiles."

 

Stiles couldn't believe this was happening. "Are we not going to even take precautionary measures? Not to mention it's technically impossible for this to be happening!"

 

Derek arched a brow at him as the child moved forward to wrap his arms around the Sheriff's waist. "Of all the things we have seen, you think this is impossible?"

 

Stiles' glare turned deadly, and he pointed an accusing finger at Derek. "I don't even want to be here looking at your stupid face! I don't know how but this is your fault!"

 

Derek opened his mouth to bite out a no doubt threat, but child Stiles poked his head around John's waist and glared at him. "Derek has a pretty face! You're a bully!"

 

Stiles stared at the shapeshifter with a look of pure horror while his father tried to cover his laugh. "Why?" He groaned/whimpered. "Why does it have to speak such blaspheme with my child like face?! It's just so incredibly wrong!"

 

Finally John threw his hand up, seemingly tired of the arguing. "Okay. How about this?" We take those precautionary measures. Just to be sure that we don't get any surprises, okay?" He looked at Derek, who nodded after a moment. And then they both turned to Stiles.

 

Stiles flailed a bit at the attention before letting out a deep huff and twisting away, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Fine! Just don't get mad when I say I told you so."

 

 

**************************************

 

 

There was no way. Nope. Not possible. Yet, after an hour of extensive test's, Stiles was running out of possible explanations (other than time travel) as to why a miniature him had appeared. As for said miniature him, the kid had taken to staring at them all very strangely after several failed test's.

 

"I told you so." Derek drew out with a cocky grin, mocking his earlier words, and yeah, Stiles was so not going to acknowledge how that grin only made him even more attractive.

 

Except he just had, hadn't he? Dammit.

 

"Okay. Fine. So none of the test's worked. Doesn't matter!" He got a rather cocky grin himself. "You both seem to be forgetting one important factor. If I somehow managed to travel through time into the future when I was a kid, I would remember it. And I'm 100% certain this never happened."

 

Both Derek and his dad drew off into silence at that.

 

Oh, yeah. One for Stiles.

 

"Daddy, what is he talking about? I just want to go home." By now the kid was looking majorly put out, and his pout had turned from begging to annoyed.

 

John turned a sigh down at him, falling to his knees. "I know. And we're going to get you home, don't worry."

 

"Ask him questions." Derek said suddenly. "Questions about yourself that only you would know, Stiles."

 

Stiles tsked, rolling his eyes and turning away. "This is ridiculous and I can't believe we're still wasting time on believing this kid when he's most likely plotting our death's right now."

 

"Stiles." John straightened, his 'dad' voice thick. "I think that's a good idea."

 

They were crazy. Bat shit crazy. And he just wanted to get this mess taken care of and go back to him comfy bed and beautiful pillow where he wouldn't have to look at Derek's stupid face anymore. "Fine. If it will shut you both up." He moved forward, about to sit on Derek's bed. He caught himself just before his ass could hit the mattress though and flailed a bit, clearing his throat and instead moving to the chair. His dad stared at him with a look that clearly said 'where did I go wrong', while Derek gave a deep sigh and massaged the little space between those thick eye brows. "Alright, Shorty, take a seat." He motioned to the bed.

 

The boy looked up at John as if asking permission, and only moved forward when he had nodded.

 

Stiles tried not to roll his eyes. The dude was a good actor. "I guess i need to know how old you are first, so spill."

 

The boy twitched nervously before glancing up through long lashes. "Eight."

 

Stiles drew stiff, his body tensing. Across from him he saw his dad do the same. Derek looked between the two of them with a confused frown. 

 

Stiles took a moment to draw in a long, calming breath, because he really didn't want to karate chop the kid. "What month is it?"

 

"October." The boy whispered with a slight frown. Stiles cleared his throat and nodded, drawing a little straighter. He didn't say anything to the kid that it was in fact April. It didn't seem all that important really. The kid was eight and thought it was October...that would mean it had been five months since..."what about your - " Stiles cleared his throat again. "Is...where is your -" Fuck. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. 

 

John kneeled down in front of the boy, laying his hands on his knee's. When he spoke his voice was gentle and calming. "Genim, I know you might not want to talk about it but...your mother, where is she?"

 

The response was immediate. His lips twisted in painful confusion, his eyes misting as he looked up at John. "Daddy? Are you okay? You said - you said we shouldn't talk about mommy anymore."

 

Stiles hands curled into a painful fist and he shut his eyes. In front of him John's tight lipped frown trembled a bit, and he moved to sit beside the boy on the bed, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close. Stiles didn't open his eyes until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up he found Derek looking down at him with a sympathetic expression. Stiles didn't push him away. Just this once. Suddenly he had to know. Had to make sure this was real. "That night at the hospital when - when you were with her...she told you a story. What was it?"

 

The boy lifted his head slightly from John's shoulder, and peaked at Stiles with wide eyes, like he couldn't believe Stiles knew. "Little Red Riding Hood." He whispered.

 

Stiles flew from the chair, shoving his fist against his mouth to muffle his choked sob. He pushed Derek aside and hurried over the floor and out of the loft, only stopping once he had gotten to the end of the hallway. He stood there, sucking in deep breaths and trying to calm the pounding of his heart. How was it possible? It made no sense. But there was no doubt anymore. It was him.

 

"You okay?"

 

Stiles twisted around and let out a shaky sigh when he saw Derek standing a few feet away from him. The man looked unsure of himself and a little cautious. Stiles laughed, turning away. "I don't understand how this is happening. I mean, that's the point! I don't  _remember_ it happening. Shouldn't I remember this?"

 

Derek gave a pained shrug. "I'm not exactly an expert on time travel."

 

Stiles snorted, nodding his head. "I don't think any of us are." They both drifted off into silence a moment, and Stiles thought that the awkwardness of it would make Derek return to the loft (because he clearly looked awkward standing there) but when he didn't Stiles just sighed. "Dude just - just go back in there. I'm good."

 

Derek's gaze searched Stiles a moment. "Look, about this - this  _thing_ between us -"

 

"No. Hell no, in fact." Stiles shook his head, giving a humorous laugh. "I'm not getting into this with you."

 

"Stiles you can't stay mad at me forever."

 

Stiles snorted. "Then you clearly don't know me. I mean I was in love with Lydia for years."

 

Derek frowned at that. "You're comparing being angry at me to being in love with Lydia?"

 

"Wh - No! Well, yeah. But it's not as weird as you make it sound. And I'm not even in love with Lydia anymore, obviously." Stiles finally stopped pacing, turning an accusing glare to Derek. "All of this is besides the point, cause I have a  _right_ to be mad at you. You just fucking vanished. First after you go full furry in Mexico, and then when you stopped answering my text's. You know you could have had the decency to at least let me know you were going to go all MIA."

 

"It wasn't like that." Derek bit out angrily.

 

Stiles snorted, flailing a bit. "Then what the hell was it like, Derek? What excuse do you have this time, huh? What made you drop off of the face of the Earth for four months?"

 

As expected, Derek said nothing. Just stood there with a furrowed brow and angry jaw. And it fucking pissed Stiles off. Not just his refusal to pull the damn stick out of his ass and be honest for once, but also the fact that Derek had no idea how incredibly worried Stiles had been, and suddenly Stiles couldn't hold it in anymore. He rushed Derek with a growl of anger that apparently even the werewolf seemed surprised at. "Do you have any idea how fucking selfish you are? Huh?" He bit out, forcefully invading Derek's space, taking a step forward when Derek took a surprised step back, and Stiles felt a wave of satisfaction rush through him that for fucking  _once_ he was the one backing the man into a corner. "You know what? It isn't even so much the fact that you left, because we're used to that. And honestly you're entitled to it. You're a grown adult capable of making his own decisions, so yeah. I'll give you that one. But -" Stiles holds up his index finger, following Derek's eyes as the man tried to look away with a scowl, forcing eye contact again. "The fact that you  _always_ fail to let anyone know what's going on with you, is just fucking selfish. I thought this time would be different, though. That we were all at least friends enough for you to give a head's up. And then, of course, you had to go and vanish again. Without warning. Again!" _  
_

 

"I wasn't aware that I needed your permission, Stiles." Derek bit out, his eyes beginning to flash blue.

 

Stiles wasn't the least bit intimidated. Hadn't been for a long time now. He gave a short, bitter laugh, and smacked Derek on the chest with the back of his hand. Derek's eyes widened in surprise as Stiles drew away in disgust. "You're such an idiot. Seriously! Did you never stop to consider the possibility that I'm so fucking mad at you because I was  _worried_ about you?"

 

Stiles words impacted Derek like a slap to the face. He jerked back slightly, blinking rapidly and trying to make sense of the conversation, which was hard to do when Stiles continued his rant again immedietly. 

 

"I thought something had happened to you. I thought that you and Braeden had gotten into some kid of trouble. That both of your bodies were lying in the desert collecting flies!"

 

Derek watched as Stiles ran a shaky hand through his messy locks, glaring at him. Of all the reasons for his anger, Derek had never expected this. He felt incredibly guilty. "Stiles I'm..I didn't know that -"

 

"That what?" Stiles spat.

 

"That you'd care."

 

Stiles stared at Derek a moment in silence, his eyes searching, before he shook his head with a sigh. "Of fucking course." He muttered to himself before apparently deciding he was done with the conversation. He looked away from Derek with a huff and began to walk past him towards the loft again.

 

"Stiles, just - wait. Just wait!" Derek reached out to lay  a hand against his chest and Stiles swatted it away with a hiss.

 

"Don't touch me." He grumbled before continuing. Just before he stepped though the doorway, though, he swung around to Derek with a frustrated exhale. "You know that's such bullshit, right? And if you honestly believe that I wouldn't care, then you don't know me at all. Why the hell  _wouldn't_ I care, Derek? It's obvious that I don't mean shit to you but I actually consider you my friend. Of course I would be worried if you disappeared!"

 

Derek didn't know what to say. He was at a loss for words. There was no way that he could tell Stiles the truth. That the reason he had stopped texting was because he had grown to like it too much. That in the end he would rather spend hours talking to Stiles rather than talking to Braeden, who had been physically there. He couldn't tell Stiles that he had come to depend on his messages. That he couldn't sleep at night without seeing Stiles familiar 'Night, Sourwolf', or even function in the morning without the ridiculous 'Wakey, wakey, eggs and backey' quoting from some obscure Pauly Shore movie.

 

So yeah. Derek guessed it was bullshit. The part about not thinking Stiles would care. Because it was obvious that he did, and that thought excited Derek more than it should.

 

"Stop  _looking_ at me like that!" Stiles hissed, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides while his cheek's flared red.

 

Derek felt his own face burn in acknowledgement and looked away, his jaw tight. "I'm sorry." He forced himself to say. Because he was.

 

Stiles jolted in surprise, staring at Derek a moment before shaking his head and turning away. "I'm still mad at you. Knowing me I'l stay that way a while, too. But I'll start coming to pack meetings again. Besides, with Mini Me in there we'll need all the help we can get."

 

Derek nodded, silent a moment. And when he spoke he had a slight grin on his face. "So..Little Red Riding Hood?"

 

Stiles shot another glare over his shoulder and returned to the loft.

 

 

******************

 

They had no choice but to take Genim (which they had all decided to call him, just to clear up the confusion) back to the Stilinski house. On the ride home John had tried to explain that a few things in the house would be different, and after Genim's constant questions Stiles had just gotten frustrated and let slip the whole time travel business. Cause yeah, Stiles knew personally how annoying he could be when he wanted answers. Which was why he also wasn't surprised when Genim just got all big eyed and whispered 'awesome' in an awed voice.

 

That had lead to the kid figuring out Stiles was him grown up. Well.  _More_ _grown up._

 

Genim hadn't seemed all that impressed.

 

Stiles once again voiced that he could still be evil. He had also pouted the entire way home while his dad tried to mask his amusement. When they got home his dad had rudely kicked him out of his own room and forced him to the couch.

 

He still took his pillow though. No way in hell was the little snot nosed brat getting that.

 

 

***********************

 

 

Stiles had somehow forgotten how annoying he had been as a kid. Seriously.  _Did he ever shut up_? Was this why everyone got so annoyed with him? Because he was beginning to understand the frustration.

 

"Yeah, Scotty is still your best friend, and before you ask, no, Lydia Martin never fall's for your sharp wit and boy like charm. Now will you shut up. Please?" He may have been whining. 

 

Genim glares up at him under all that fucking hair before slumping against the passenger seat of the jeep, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why am I so mean when I grow up?"

 

"Why was I so annoying when I was a kid?" Stiles retorts snarky.

 

"Daddy said you have to be nice to me."

 

"Yeah, well he's my dad too and I've got news for you, kid, I don't always listen to him." Parking the jeep he jumped out and slammed the door behind him, waiting impatiently for Genim to appear at his side before heading to the loft. "And I'd be more worried about being nice to me. I'm the one that's going to get you back home."

 

The kid eyed him doubtfully. "How?"

 

"It's just what I do." Stiles muttered, stepping out of the lift and heading for the loft door. "I'm like Felicity Smoak, you know? The brains behind our little team."

 

As expected, Genim's eyes lit up. "Does that mean Derek's a super hero?"

 

Stiles haltered, scoffing down at him. "What? No. Derek is not a superhero. Derek is a brooding man child full of angst."

 

"Is not! He's nice. I bet he's a superhero and you just don't know it."

 

"Nice?! What? Clearly we aren't talking about the same person!"

 

"I like him." Genim mumbled through an impressive pout.

 

Stiles stared around with huge eyes. "Oh my god.  _Never_ say that again!"

 

Just then the door to the loft opened and Derek appeared, leaning on the door frame with a cocky grin.

 

Stiles realized that the werewolf had heard everything and glared, stomping past him into the loft. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. Poor judge of character!" Derek just eyed him in amusement before winking down at Genim, who blushed deeply and shuffled in. Stiles let out a strangled gasp. "No! You do  _not_ do that again!"

 

"Do what?" Derek asked with a shit eating grin.

 

Stiles just glared at him before turning away with a grumble. "I feel violated."

 

"Scott and everyone should be here soon." Derek said as he headed to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets. 

 

"Scott's coming?!" Genim grinned, unable to contain his excitement.

 

"Yeah, yeah. Calm down." Stiles grabbed the one freaking chair and sat in it with a sigh.

 

Derek came from the kitchen and proceeded to dump a hand full of snacks on the bed, where Genim sat. The boy's eyes grew large as he eyed them all and even Stiles perked up.

 

"Did you...buy snacks for him?"

 

Derek looked a bit sheepish and shrugged. "I figured I should stock up."

 

Stiles watched him with an open mouth as Genim grinned big and tore open a fruit roll up. "Dude! You never buy us snacks!"

 

Derek rolled his eyes. "You're not eight, Stiles."

 

Arching a defiant brow Stiles stood and sashayed over toward the bed, grabbing a pack of Reese Pieces and sneering down at Derek before returning to his chair. "This is so freaking weird." He ripped open the bag and proceeded to toss the chocolate pieces in the air, catching them with his mouth. "You realize you're basically spoiling  _me_ , right? He crunched on a hard chocolate shell and turned to Derek, sucking in a sharp breath when he found the werewolf staring intently at him his deep green eyes flickering up from Stiles' mouth. Stiles felt his heart skip a beat as their eyes met. He began to panic when he realized he couldn't look away. Luckily the loft door opened at that time, and he almost ran to Scott and kissed him.

 

"Okay, we're here. So what's so important that -" Scott froze, his eyes shooting wide and his mouth dropping. Liam ran into his back and began to curse before following Scott's gaze with a frown.

 

Lydia and Kira walked in last, heel's clicking against the hard wood. "What are the two of you just standing there for?" Lydia scoffed before her eyes widened as well.

 

Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes as he watched Scott and Lydia stare from Genim to him, and then back and forth again. "Yes. It's real. Apparently child me somehow got sent here from the past. Now that that's over with, how about we find a way to send him back, yeah?"

 

Scott was the first to move, stepping close and squinting at Genim, who was twitching nervously. "Stiles?"

 

The boy chewed on his lip, scowling up at Scott a moment. "Scott?" Genim hopped off the bed and moved hesitantly forward to stand in front of the Alpha, looking him over a moment before a huge grin caught his face. "You're so cool."

 

Scott let out a loud laugh and grabbed Genim in a tight hug, swinging him around a bit. "Dude! It's really you! Oh my god, I forgot about your  _hair_!"

 

Stiles rolled his eyes as Genim giggled and clung to Scott happily. "All right, this is all very touching but guys we need to focus."

 

Of course everyone ignored him completely.

 

"Wait. Are you saying that this is Stiles? Only as a kid?" Liam stared with wide eyes.

 

Genim looked up at Liam shyly as Scott put him back on the ground. "Who are you?" 

 

Stiles snorted when Liam blushed like an idiot. "Uh, hey. I'm Liam."

 

"Are we friends?" Genim asked, blinking up.

 

Liam glanced up at Stiles, as if to verify, and Stiles just stares at him. Because, seriously?

 

"Uh, yeah. We're friends."

 

Genim nod's shyly, offering a little grin.

 

"I'm Kira! We're friends too. Also, I'm Scott's girlfriend." Kira knee's down to smile at Genim.

 

Genim flushes hot and stutters a bit as he says hello, and Stiles wants to groan, because it's so embarrassing seeing how awkward he was - is - with girls. "Scott has a girlfriend?" Genim whispered with wide eyes, which causes everyone to laugh.

 

And then Lydia was there. Stiles cringes, cause he knows what's coming.

 

Genim's eyes go as round as saucers and he stares up at the beautiful, intimidating red head. 

 

Lydia grins slyly down at him. The damned vixen knowing the major crush Stiles had had on her. "Hmm. You know, looking now, you were actually pretty cute."

 

Genim just grows even more red. "Lydia?" He whispers softly.

 

Lydia wags her brows. "So what do you think? Am I cool too?"

 

Stiles slaps a hand over his face and groans. This is too cruel.

 

"You're so pretty." Genim says in awe and Lydia gives him an approving grin, ruffling his hair and dishing out a saucy 'thanks'. Genim smiles up at him before his eyes get big and he turns to Kira. "You're pretty, too!" He says quickly, as if he were afraid he would insult Kira. Kira laughs fondly while everyone else grins.

 

Stiles resist's the urge to face place. "We have got to get me back. This is just humiliating."

 

"Have you talked to Deaton yet?" Scott asks, watching Genim as the boy shuffles shyly under Kira's preening.

 

"Yeah, we talked to him before coming to the loft. He has no idea what could have caused all this. Aside from a spell."

 

"Dude..why would anyone want to send kid you to the future anyways?" Scott frowns.

 

"No idea." Stiles says, a little distracted looking at Lydia who was walking circles around Genim, her eyes assessing.

 

"And he doesn't know how he got here?" Kira asks.

 

Stiles shook his head. "According to him - me - whatever, he just went to bed and woke up at the loft."

 

Lydia paused, narrowing her eyes. "Wait...he was sent here? To Derek's?"

 

Stiles scoffed at her, hating how uncomfortable the fact made him. Across from him Derek was watching him a little too closely and Stiles drummed his fingertips on his thigh, wanting to throw something in the guy's stupid face. "Yeah. Don't know why or how. it just - yeah."

 

Lydia got that look in her eyes. The one that said she knew something no one else did yet, and Stiles gave her the stink eye.

 

"Has he been in these pajama's since last night?" She asked then.

 

Stiles blinked, confused by the unexpected question. "Uh, yeah? It's not like I've got any of my old stuff lying around."

 

Lydia wrapped an arm around Kira's waist. "Well it's settled then. Kira and I are taking him shopping."

 

Stiles frowned. "What? Really? Do you think that's really necessary? I mean if we send him back soon it would be kind of a waste, right?"

 

Lydia eyed him much like she would gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "He can't just walk around in the same pajama's all the time, Stiles. We're taking him shopping."

 

"And what if he doesn't want to go shopping?"

 

Lydia rolled her eyes at him before turning to Genim with a sugary sweet smile. "How about it? Do you want to go to the mall with Kira and me?"

 

Oh yeah. Like any boy would be able to say no to that! Just as expected Genim nodded anxiously, his eyes wide.

 

"See?" Lydia said with a cocky grin before putting her other arm around Genim's thin shoulders. "We're going to have so much fun. I'll even get you some curly fries!"

 

The glance that Genim had been turning back to them was quickly aborted at the mention of the greasy goodness, and Stiles nearly snorted at the threat of whip lash for the kid. "Just don't keep him out too late, okay? My dad is freaking out enough as it is."

 

"we're going to have so much fun." Kira grinned down at Genim before giving Scott and everyone else a finger wave of goodbye.

 

Stiles watched them leave with a groan, leaning back in the chair and scrubbing his hand over his face.

 

"Dude.." Scott shook his head.

 

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I know."

 

"But how?" Liam added.

 

Stiles released a frustrated sigh. "I don't know, okay? None of this makes sense. Especially why kid me would show up at Captain Creepers of all places."

 

"Stiles. Shut up." Derek drew out without any real bite.

 

"Yeah, make me Sour Wolf." Stiles grumbled, glaring at Derek before turning to look at Scott who was staring at him with a creepy grin. "Dude, what?"

 

"Nothing." Scott shrugged, still grinning. "Just glad you two made up."

 

Stiles sputtered a full minute and Derek rolled his eyes. "First of all, we did not make up. I'm still very much mad at him for deserting us. And second! Don't say it like that it just sounds weird and incredibly wrong."

 

"But you're bickering like you usually do, so I just thought..."

 

"well, Scott, you thought wrong. So just...no. Okay? Just no." Stiles folded his arms across his chest, looking every bit the petulant child and he didn't give a damn.

 

Scot held his hands up in defeat before moving to lean against a wall. Liam eyed Stiles with a frown.

 

"But weren't you talking to Derek on the phone the night of the party?"

 

Stiles figited a moment, shooting a confused frown to Derek who was watching him with an arched brow. "Um. No. I don't know why you thin that. I passed out just like everyone else."

 

Liam's frown deepened and he tilted his head to the side slightly. "But I could have swore I woke up at one point and heard you saying Derek's name. Unless you were just dreaming."

 

Oh. Wow. That had just happened. Stiles felt his eyes shoot wide as he cast nearly desperate looks at everyone, hoping that at any moment he'd wake up in his bed and this will all have been just a bad dream. "No way in hell you heard anything of the sort! I don't - I'd never dream of - that's fucking ridiculous! Ha! Besides, even if I did it would totally be a nightmare. So if you heard me say - which you didn't - it was because of that. But it clearly didn't happen so all this is nonsense!" Stiles hadn't realized he was getting louder and louder until Liam stumbled backwards with wide eyes.

 

"Okay, dude I'm sorry! I must have heard wrong."

 

"You're damn right you heard wrong! Besides you were totally wasted anyways, running around naked half the night!"

 

Scott snorted across from them. "You really were. You naked tackled Stiles once. I've never seen him more freaked out."

 

Totally grateful for the conversation change Stiles muted out the sound of Scott and Liam discussing Liam's hidden nudist tendencies and angirly chomped into the rest of his candy. He'd felt Derek's eyes on him since Liam dropped the little bombshell and Stiles could still feel the weight of his gaze. The hot burn of it. Stiles was aware of the fact that he was blushing like an idiot but try as he might he couldn't stop. Because it was true. Stiles  _had_ dreamed about Derek the night of his party. Nothing weird. Well, too weird. He had just been watching the man leave again. Unable to move and stop him. Stiles had awoken shouting his name and pissed as hell. Embarrassment had immedietly crashed into him. He had thought that everyone had still been asleep, but apparently Liam had woken briefly enough to hear him. Fan - fucking - tastic. Stiles was just glad Lydia wasn't there or else she would have never let the conversation drop. Analyzing and assessing what every second of the dream could possibly mean.

 

Deciding to risk it, Stiles hesitantly peered up though his lashes. Scott was talking to Derek now. The two standing in front of one another. Scott making wide gestures with his hands while Derek stood in a familiar, wide legged stance, arms crossed over his muscular chest. He was nodding his dark head as he listened, but as if the wolf had a fucking radar, his head turned and those deep green eyes locked on Stiles. Stiles swallowed, feeling his heart stutter. He hated that the werewolf had always had the ability to unnerve him. Hated even more that after six months of not seeing him Derek could still do it.

 

Stiles looked away.

 

****************************

 

 

The next week was spent mostly at the loft, everyone throwing themselves into research and how to send his past self back to his own time. In between work John stayed with them, his presence helping ease the occassional panic that Genim sometimes fell into. It was always so strange for Stiles; seeing himself go into an attack. It felt surreal and surprisingly frightening, and a few times Stiles felt himself beginning to slip and would always quickly reign himself in. The last thing they needed were two Stiles' out of their wits. During those times, though, Stiles noticed that Derek always turned to look at him, searching his face as if he were the one needing to be taken care of. Stiles found this both annoying and strangely satisfying.

 

Needless to say, he couldn't wait to get himself back to his own time. Unfortunately the only things they had linked to the time travel were witches and spells, faerie abductions, and worm holey things. The worm holey things were apparently found throughout various places around the world, and were apparently almost impossible to track down. Still, the thought of one just magically appearing at his home ten years ago seemed far too impossible. Besides, considering the fact that Deaton had agreed that Stiles had no memory of any of this happening suggested something magical.

 

Which made even less sense. Why the hell would anyone want to send his eight year old self to the future?

 

Everything was just so fucking confusing and Stiles was getting sick and tired of sleeping on the couch. Seriously. His delicate back was in misery. And Stiles was a complainer when he was in pain. Everyone knew that. 

 

By the end of the week when they were no closer to getting Genim home, everyone decided that it was time for a much needed break, which Stiles would have been happy for were it not for the fact that everyone decided Derek's loft was the perfect place for said break. Obviously the world hated him. Which was why Stiles found himself sitting on a new, uncomfortable couch wedged between Scott and Lydia, the sound of the newest Avenger's movie blaring from a flat screen on the wall. Because apparently Derek had gone shopping. Who would have thought.

 

And yet, as much as he would have loved to be enjoying Chris Evans kick major ass, he just couldn't, because there was something so incredibly fucked up happening just a few feet away in a rather large recliner. Stiles was aware he was staring, but he just couldn't help it. He managed to drag his eyes away, to look and see if anyone else was seeing this, all he saw were four people relaxing and enjoying a movie.  _How the fuck were they just watching a movie when Derek and kid Stiles were practically_   **cuddling**?!

 

Over the past few days Stiles had annoyingly noticed that his younger self seemed to have a fascination with Derek that bordered on a hero complex. The kid basically gazed at him with wide, awe filled eyes 24/7. Stiles found it highly disturbing. What was even more shocking, though, was the affection Derek gave to Genim. Stiles surprise had been shared with the rest of the pack in the beginning. After all they weren't used to seeing Derek smile so freely and tease anyone, let alone an eight year old kid. But he did. All the damn time, and Genim ate that shit up. Apparently Stiles was the only one that still found it fucking weird though, and he wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that the rest of his friends seemed to have just accepted it for what it was. Because, really, what the hell was it?! Stiles had never really seen Derek around kids. Was he this way with all of them? He knew that before the Hale fire he had had lots of little cousins. Did Genim remind him of them? Was that why he was so affectionate with him? Genim lifted a hand to chew at his thumb nail then, something that Stiles still did often, and he watched with a furrowed brow as Derek glanced down with a chiding stare and pushed the boy's hand away from his mouth. Genim pouted faintly and let out a huff of air before leaning his head over to rest on Derek's large bicep, his eyes on the movie. Stiles stared at how utterly contempt Genim looked, his shoulders lax and a small smile on his face. It was...it was too fucking much.

 

He jerked to a stand, making everyone turn to him with frowns. Ignoring them, Stiles marched over to the recliner and without warning bent down and grabbed Genim, throwing the kid over his shoulder. The boy gasped before beginning to squirm, and Stiles glared down at Derek and everyone else. "Stay!" He bit out the command before twisting around and stomping towards the loft entrance. He had some trouble getting the door open with only one hand, but he managed it somehow, and walked quickly out with the struggling boy. He didn't stop until he had descended the stairwell a full floor, and then finally tumbled Genim over and sat him on his feet. The boy pouted angrily up at him, shoving his thick brown hair out of his face.

 

"Why did you do that?!"

 

"Why - you're seriously asking me, argh!" Stiles let out a loud frustrated cry, scrubbing his hands over his face before plopping down on the steps until he was eye level with Genim, who was glaring at him. "You do realize that you are me, right? And I'm you?"

 

Genim nodded with a 'duh' stare and Stiles sucked in a deep breath, thinking that when he got home he was going to thank his dad for putting up with him all these years. 

 

"Okay. So you understand that it's really weird for me to see you all cuddled up with Derek, right?"

 

Genim tilted his head to the side, for the first time looking confused. "Why?"

 

"Because it's Derek Hale! We do not cuddle, okay! I don't even cuddle that much with Scott anymore, and he's my best friend! Jesus! Just - why the hell him? Why don't you cuddle with Lydia. You like Lydia, remember?"

 

Genim's face got red then, and his eyes darted away as he squirmed. Stiles cringed at the sight of him.

 

"Oh my god what is it. Stop doing that!"

 

The boy shrugged thin shoulders, his hunter green sweater that had a plaid collar and sleeves slipping slightly from the motion. Stiles eyed the thing a moment, refusing to acknowledge how adorable the clothes Lydia had picked out for him actually were. He would never give her that power. "I like Lydia..." The boy mumbled.

 

Stiles nodded, clasping his hands together. "Yeah! Good, see. That's great." Though as he sat there staring at Genim, who was just getting more and more red by the second, he could see that there was clearly more to it. His shoulders slumped with a sigh. "What is it? What's wrong?"

 

Genim began to chew on his thumb nail again, and Stiles let him, because he knew sometimes he needed to do something to ease the tension in his belly. "It's just...I think I..."

 

And then he proceeded to mumble something so low that Stiles couldn't hear him. "What? You gotta speak up, kid I can't hear you."

 

Genim huffed out a frustrated breath before shuffling his feet. "I think...I think I like Derek more."

 

Stiles did not speak for a full minute. Just kept turning his head this way and that, blinking his eyes rapidly and licking his lips, trying to understand the words that Genim had just spoken. Because, yeah, that wasn't cool. At all. Like.....at ALL. Because if he had just heard right, his eight year old self had just said that he liked Derek Hale more than Lydia Martin. And that couldn't be true. In fact, Stiles refused to accept it. "I'm sorry I think I just hallucinated something. What did you say?"

 

"I like Derek. I think he's nice. And he's pretty. I like his beard."

 

This was not happening. Nope. In fact, he was mos likely dreaming. He would wake up and find himself in his living room. It was the night of his party and all of this will have been a dream. A dream dammit! "YOU DO NOT LIKE DEREK HALE!"

 

Instead of the kid shying away as he had expected, Genim just glared at him and straightened his small body, a determined glint in his eyes. "I do!"

 

"You do NOT! Oh my god!" Stiles jumped up, flailing in panic and frustration before holding up a finger. "One, he is WAY too old for you!" He added another finger. "Two, Derek hale is NOT pretty, and no one like's his beard!" The kid was not a werewolf. So it was okay to lie. Another finger. "And three, Derek Hale is one of the moodiest, brooding men you will EVER meet. You do NOT like that!"

 

"You're not the boss of me! You can't tell me who I like. I like Derek. And since you're me you must like him too."

 

Stiles choked on his own saliva. He stumbled back, hand over his chest as if he had been shot, his eyes wide. "Don't you dare say that again!"

 

"You like Derek, too!"

 

"That's it, we're leaving!" Stiles moved forward to grab Genim but the boy bolted, running up the stairs at a speed that only little kids could muster. Stiles shouted at him, his face blood shot because the last thing he needed was the boy running back to the loft after this conversation. By the time he got to the top floor Genim was beating at the door with his little first's. Stiles swore sharply and started to full out run for him just as the loft door opened and Genim slipped inside. By that time Stiles couldn't even have stopped if he tried, so the next thing he knew he was slamming hard against someone and then they were both tipping backwards. Or forwards in Stiles case. Stiles let out a loud 'oof' as the breath left his lungs. Strong arms wrapped around his middle and his hands lay flat against a hard chest. Stiles took a deep breath, the scent of spice and dark earth filling his senses and his heart stuttered anxiously, something coiling low in his belly without warning. 

 

"Stiles, what the hell is going on?" Scott called from somewhere above him. 

 

Stiles wanted to just die in that moment, because he knew who he had fallen on. He quickly assessed the situation, hoping that he could get out of this without being humiliated. Okay. So he had fallen on Derek Hale. That was alright. Okay, so Derek's arms were wrapped around his waist, holding him flush to his chest. Yeah...okay so that one was a little embarrassing but nothing he couldn't recover from. Moving on. So...he shifted slightly to test what position his legs were in and, yup, okay they were spread wide and tangled up with Derek's, with one of the man's thighs shoved against his - oh god he was never going to walk away from this. Stiles then realized that the entire time he had had his face shoved against Derek's collar, and this time did give an audible groan. Way to not make this awkward, Stiles. He let out a huff and finally pushed against Derek's chest a bit, pulling himself up and being careful to look anywhere but at the man under him. "Uh, sorry I - that was, it's just he - uh...." Someone kill him. Kill him now. "This is all your fault you little brat!" He shot Genim a glare, who was looking at him with equal disdain and...was that...oh my god yes that was jealousy. What the hell was wrong with the kid!?

 

"Is not! It's your fault!"

 

"Dude what happened? And why are you still laying on Derek?"

 

Scott's words snapped him out of it and he gave a little yelp, trying to push himself away more and come to a stand, which was hard considering their legs were tangled.

 

"Stiles is mad because he likes Derek!"

 

A heavy silence fell over the room, and Stiles felt his eyes shoot as wide as saucers. He jerked up stiffly, finally looking down at Derek who was staring up at him with his brows rose high. Stiles gave a little squeak, shaking his head quickly and mouthing 'no no no' over and over again. 

 

"Dude...so you had to go and jump Derek in front of all of us?" Scott said in a voice that sounded like it should have been coming from a parent and not some seventeen year old boy.

 

"That's not what's happening here!" Stiles bit out angrily, flailing. "He's the stupid one that has a crush on King Brood here, not me!" 

 

"Yeah but doesn't that mean you have a crush on him too?" Kira spoke up with a quizzical frown on her face, and Genim grinned near her.

 

"No! No it does not! Why do people keep saying that!" 

 

"Stiles." 

 

Stiles jumped slightly at the voice under him, and then he realized with horror that he was still sitting on Derek. Straddling him, actually. He felt his face shoot blood red and he started to scramble away. "Oh my god I'm sorry I didn't - it's not - I swear it's not like that. Oh god please don't kill me!"

 

Derek gave a deep sigh before moving to stand to his feet. He dusted himself off, clearing his throat. "I'm not going to kill you." He said in a put out voice.

 

Stiles nodded, his head bouncing back and forth. "Good. That's good. Cause, yeah. I very much enjoy living. So, that's  _good_." Oh god he was rambling. 

 

"Wait, so does Genim actually like Derek?" Lydia questioned, her eyes doing that shiny thing again and Stiles could basically hear the gears in her head turning.

 

"He has a  _crush_! A little child like crush, okay. Let's just, can we please not speak of this?" Stiles moaned, his face twisted in pain.

 

"I think that would be for the best." Derek said, clearing his throat, and if things weren't already so embarrassing between them Stiles would have hugged the man. 

 

"Totally. Good thinking. And actually we've got to go anyways, so you guys can, you know, just...yeah." Stiles stumbled over to Genim and with a forceful grin grabbed his hand, making sure the kid wasn't going to ditch him again. Genim just glared up at him, his shoulder's slumping a little. 

 

"But I wanted to stay!"

 

"In your dream's lover boy." Stiles muttered before leading him towards the loft entrance. He could feel everyone's eyes burning into him and hated the fact that he was red as a damn valentines heart. He couldn't take this anymore. He had to find a way to get him back to his own time. Before he somehow managed to humiliate himself even more. 


	3. Wish Come True

It was going on the two week marker and things were not going well. Actually, they weren't going at all. No matter how hard Stiles and Lydia researched, how many 'connections' Deaton said he would contact, they always ended in nothing. Tension was getting high and emotions were stretched thin. None more so perhaps than from young Genim Stilinski himself. In the beginning the kid had been in clear awe at the prospect of time travel really existing, but as it was, that thrill had apparently worn off. Now the kid was constantly moody, refused to talk to people most of the time, and cried an embarrassing amount. Which surprised Scott and Lydia. They remembered Stiles at that age, and while he had been prone his fair share of panic attacks, he hadn't cried like that. Not like Genim seemed to do. What was worse was the fact that no one seemed able to find out why he was crying in the first place. If they were at their house, he would just lock himself into Stiles' room. It had been totally frustrating at first, considering that, hey, it was _his_ room, but the times that Stiles had attempted to go up stairs and talk to Genim had ended horribly, so he always resigned to collapsing on the couch. Confused as hell.

 

If they were at the loft, Genim would tend to sneak away into the bathroom when no one was paying attention. In the end Derek was the only one would was able to make contact, and most of the time he just ended up hanging out in the bathroom with Genim, sometimes for just a few minutes, sometimes up to an hour. _This drove Stiles fucking crazy._ Why the hell did Genim talk to Derek but not him? He  _was_ him! Shouldn't that make things between them easier? As it was Stiles had no idea what the hell he was doing, and when he would watch Derek and Genim finally make their way out of the bathroom, the boys hand bunched tight in Derek's shirt and staring down at the floor, Stiles felt an overwhelming sense of panic and frustration fill him. What was Genim telling him? Because they couldn't just be sitting around twiddling their thumbs and humming. But every time Stiles would  look at Derek's face for answers the man would have that annoyingly familiar blank expression on his face. 

 

Stiles didn't know what the hell to do. 

 

The Sheriff spent as many days as he could with Genim, and only then would the boy seem calm, the weight of the world off of his shoulders finally. But those times were a rare thing given John's job. Stiles knew that Genim understood his father had a responsibility thought, he had always somehow been able to grasp that even at a young age, so Stiles knew that his dad's absence didn't weigh too heavily on Genim.

 

It was a school night when Stiles and Genim were laying on the couch at opposite ends, their bodies in mirror images, head pillowed on their right arm and left resting carelessly against their stomachs. Their legs were spread out, Stiles left hitched up on the back of the couch and Genim's right hanging off, his foot dangling just over the carpet. Stiles had always had a weird thing about his legs being open. When he slept it was on his stomach, arms dug under his pillow and one leg stretched straight while the other was pulled up and bent at the knee. It was just comfortable. It used to drive Malia crazy because while they may have usually fallen asleep cuddling, at some point in the night Stiles would always flip over to his stomach and hitch his leg up, which resulted in him pushing her away abruptly. Usually with a knee in the back. The only time they were able to cuddle throughout the night was when Stiles would be the little spoon. But Malia had come to find that more annoying than anything. Something about Stiles being male and supposed to be the protector. He just wanted to know when the hell cuddling had become based on gender role. Why couldn't he be the little spoon sometimes? 

 

Stiles let out a soft sigh and turned away from Van Helsing on the screen to glance over at Genim. He had been in a surprisingly good mood all day, and Stiles had tried his best not to ruin that. He watched as the kid's eyes widened when Hugh Jackman turned into a werewolf for the first time and couldn't help but grin. The pack had all decided to not divulge that little information about themselves. Or any information on the supernatural. Other than time travel, of course. As it was, Stiles couldn't help but wonder how an eight year old him would react to finding out that werewolves existed. To seeing one transform. Yeah, he'd most likely pee his pants. Grinning Stiles turned back to look at the screen.

 

"Why don't you like Derek?"

 

Stiles' jerked his gaze to Genim with wide eyes, seeing that the boy was staring at him now with an unwavering gaze that should not intimidate Stiles as much as it did dammit! "What are you talking about?"

 

"Derek say's that you don't like him."

 

Stiles gaped, pulling his leg down from the back of the couch and sitting a little straighter. He automatically glanced around him as if to make sure no one was around, and then turned back to Genim. "Well I don't know why he say's that. In fact, we had this conversation not too long ago. He's my friend. He know's I care for him."

 

Genim shook his head with a sigh of impatience. "No. Not that. He said that you care for him but he doesn't think you like him very much."

 

Stiles licked his lips nervously, glaring a little. "Are we back on that whole 'child crush' you've got going on? That's completely ridiculous, might I add."

 

Genim sat up as well, until he and Stiles were facing each other, once again mirroring one another. The kid was wearing a slightly large Star Wars tee shirt and some baggy superman sleep shorts, and Stiles was so jealous that he couldn't dress as rumpled and careless anymore and get away with it. Even if it were just pajama's. "Derek said that liking someone mean's something different when your older. I don't understand."

 

Stiles groaned this time, scrubbing a hand over his face and asking himself if he really wanted to have this conversation. He peeked up at Genim, who was totally not going to give. Yeah. Guess he was. Allowing his hands to fall in his lap Stiles cleared his throat. "Alright, look, he's right. When you get older, things change, you know? Life isn't so simple anymore. Everything has consequences. Not only that but people expect certain things from you. Saying you like someone when your eight is nothing. No big deal, right? It is what it is. But saying you like someone when your eighteen?" Stiles scoffed, looking a little perturbed. "Yeah, there's lots of things that go along with it."

 

"Like what things?"

 

Stiles pursed his lips, thinking how to go about this the most painless way. Cause yeah, he was so not having the sex talk with his eight year old self. Just wasn't happening. "Well, for one you've got to think of what it all entails if you like someone. And you've got to the think about the other person, too. What their life is, if they'd even be able to like you back. If it would even be worth it." He was not going to go over divorce statics. Nope. "And you know when you're eighteen and say you like someone, people expect things from you, so you have to consider that as well."

 

Genim frowned deeply, leaning back against the couch with a deep sigh. "It sounds bad. I don't think I'm going to like anyone when I'm older."

 

Stiles paused, frowning. "Hey, no. Don't say that.  _Why_ would you say that?"

 

Genim pouted like a petulant child - which he kind of was. "It sounds like you can't actually like someone when your older because of other people. Why are other people important, anyway? You don't like them."

 

He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words and failing miserably. Because as much as he tried to deny it, the kid did have a point. Liking someone shouldn't be about anything but that person, but that's just not the way things were these days. There were things to consider. Lots of things. Very important things. Adult things. Things that suddenly just aggravated the hell out of him. "Well why do you like Derek anyway, huh? Because he's good looking? You can't have something real based on just looks, you know."

 

Genim rolled his eyes,  _actually rolled his eyes. "_ i don't just like him because he's pretty, duh. He's nice too. And he plays with me and talks too."

 

"Hey! We all talk to you."

 

"Not like he does. You guys treat me like I'm a baby. I'm eight, you know."

 

Stiles sighed. Yeah, maybe he was a little right on that one. 

 

"And he laughs at my jokes."

 

Okay. Now this was going too far. "He laughs at your jokes?! He  _never_ laughs at my jokes!"

 

"But you never look at him so how do you know."

 

Stiles scoffed at that. "I do so look at him." Great. Now  _he_ was sounding like a kid.

 

"No you don't." Genim's voice had changed to a sort of annoying know-it-all tone. "And every time you're in the same room you stay far away from him."

 

Now he knew the kid was being ridiculous. Because he totally didn't do that. Him and Derek got along well together. Well, sort of. When it mattered they did. Whenever there was a big bad in town they were always right beside each other, bouncing idea's off of each other and planning. So Stiles may stand on the other side of the room any other time. Or may wait to see where Derek sit's before choosing a place for himself. Okay. Maybe since he'd come back to Beacon Hills Stiles  _had_ been a bit distant, but that was because he was still kind of mad at the bastard for vanishing. "You don't know what you're talking about, kid. Derek and I have been through a lot together. We've helped each other out more times than I can count."

 

"He said that too, that you always watch out for him."

 

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well we're friends. So that's normal. Now shut up or I'm going to eat all your fudge pops in the freezer, brat."

 

A look of pure horror came over his face before Genim slumped back down into the couch and turned to the TV with a glare. Despite that, though, Stiles couldn't feel like he had really 'won' their little battle. Especially when for the next few hours before he fell asleep all he could think about was stupid Derek and his stupid face.

 

******************************************************

 

 

It ends up happening one night at Derek's loft. Stiles had been expecting it for days honestly, and thought it would have actually come sooner. If there's one thing he'd learned from life, was that shit has to hit the fan sooner or later. Stiles, his dad and Genim had ended up at Derek's just before the sun set. It was a Friday night and the rest of the pack had decided to take a well needed break and go see a movie. Stiles, of course, couldn't be bothered when they still weren't any closer to finding out how to send Genim home. So his dad had suggested they have a quiet night of pizza and TV while Stiles tolled away on his laptop, searching for answers. Just before his dad decided to call in their delivery, though, he was suddenly being all weird and talking about how he bet's Derek's probably hungry and would enjoy some company in his big empty loft.

 

Genim had of course jumped at the chance to hang out with the wolf and by the grin on his dad's face Stiles knew that the man was just indulging the brat. Stiles had of course told them that he'd stay there and continue researching. Turns out he wasn't as persuasive as he thought. 

 

Derek, strangely enough, doesn't seem all that surprised to see them, and Stiles has a sinking suspicion that the man had already known, which is quickly made obvious when Stiles see's the pizza boxes piled up on the coffee table, the scent of their sweet greasy goodness luring Stiles into the loft. He plopped down on the couch while Derek brought them all paper plates, and then Stiles proceeded to fill it's surface with as much extra cheese extra sausage slices he could get. Annoyingly his taste in pizza had been the same for years, so he did have to share with Genim. The kid grabbed his plate and snuggled into the overly large recliner with Derek, and Stiles forced himself to not stare. Again. Hell even his dad didn't think anything of it as he settled next to Stiles with his own plate and everyone turned to the TV to scan Netflix. 

 

It was still a little weird, sitting around Derek's loft for no other purpose than to relax and not really have to worry about what new monster was picking off the resident's of Beacon Hills. Once upon a time this was how he and Scott used to be. The thought made Stiles a bit sad, and he chewed a little slower on his pizza. It wasn't like Stiles really held a grudge against Scott or anything. He knew that he loved Kira and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. That's what love was, right? He just hated that in the throws of a relationship Scott always seemed to forget about him. The times that they spent together outside of school and pack meetings was nearly nonexistent. Truth be told, Stiles was a little lonely. Had been for a while now, since Malia had left. He missed her. And the strangest thing about that was he didn't miss her as a girlfriend, just as a friend. It had taken Malia leaving to put a few things in perspective for Stiles, mostly the fact that they had really started to drift months ago. Looking back he had eventually accepted that their relationship would have ended one way or another eventually. He was just glad it hadn't been badly. 

 

Across the room Genim started giggling at something that had just happened in the movie they were watching, and Stiles glanced over at him, unable to help the soft grin that came to his face. It may still weird him out that he seemed to be so attached to Derek, but even Stiles had to admit that Derek did seem to have a way with kids. Stiles tried to imagine him younger, as a teenager in his big house before the fire. He knew from the case file that a lot of kids had lived there. Had Derek been like this with them? Was it just a part of Derek himself or something more instinctual? Something having to do with his wolf maybe. 

 

Stiles didn't realize exactly how long he had been staring until his dad cleared his throat softly beside him. Stiles glared at his dad's nearly pitying look and slouched down on the couch, fiddling with his necklace that Lydia had given to him for his birthday. He had worn it only a few times since then, but for some reason he had grabbed it before leaving the house and slipped it over his head. 

 

It was only maybe an hour in when the Sheriff got a call from the station and he had to leave. He assured Stiles that it was nothing too serious, muttering something about some hikers coming upon some animal carcasses in the preserve. Stiles himself thought that sounded like a big deal but his dad just gave him this 'it's none of your business' glare before making sure Derek would be able to drive him and Genim home after the movie. Stiles was making a strangled sound of betrayal immedietly which his dad just sighed at before patting his shoulder, bending down to give Genim a kiss on the head, and then heading out the loft door. 

 

Stiles stayed standing a moment, his eyes wide and having no idea what to do. He and Derek hadn't been alone in a while and he felt awkward and way too self conscious all of a sudden. Which made no sense whatsoever. 

 

"Stiles, sit down. I'll take you guys home after the movie's over." Derek's gruff voice all but ordered and Stiles turned a glare to him before falling back onto the couch.

 

At some point Genim had moved over to the couch to sit next to the Sheriff, and now he looked all alone and miserable and a little sullen even. Stiles sighed, patting the space beside him. "Come on, dude. Don't sit there looking all dejected."

 

Genim looked over at him with a pout and narrowed eyes, refusing to move. Stiles couldn't help the squeak of betrayal that once again left his lips that night. What was up with people hating on him lately?! He gave Genim a glare of equal intensity which he then directed at Derek, because he could feel the guys eyes burning into him. And yeah, that was amusement on his face. He itched to shoot him the birdie but didn't think it would be very appropriate so instead just grumbled under his breath and stared at the TV. They sat like that for maybe twenty minutes before Genim got up from the couch and walked down the short hall of the loft. Stiles saw him go through the bathroom door and turned back to the movie, briefly wondering when kid's movies started getting so cool. 

 

He wasn't sure how long they sat there, but eventually Derek was rising swiftly, his shoulder's stiff. Stiles turned an arched brow to him and watched as the wolf sniffed the air with narrowed eyes before abruptly turning and heading down the hall. He walked to stand in front of the bathroom door, quiet a moment, before raising his knuckles to rap against the wood.

 

"Genim?"

 

Stiles leaned a little forward in his seat, squinting his eyes and watching Derek. "What's up?"

 

Derek held a hand up to shush him, which was totally rude and made Stiles purse his lips and glare. The wolf tilted his head slightly as if listening and then sighed deep, his shoulder's slumping. "Genim open the door."

 

Okay now Stiles was standing and making his way down the hall, cause this was just too damn baffling and he had to get to the bottom of it. "What's wrong?"

 

Derek glanced over at him, licking his lips and looking like he was torn between talking and secrecy, which was ridiculous. "He's upset."

 

Stiles arched a brow, turning to stare at the door. "Upset?"

 

Derek gave a slight nod before knocking again, this time a little harder. "Come on, Genim. I can hear you're heart beat getting quicker. You need to open up!"

 

Stiles grabbed onto Derek's forearm with a hiss, narrowing his eyes at the man and speaking in hushed whispers. "Dude! He doesn't know about your wolfy senses, you can't say stuff like that."

 

Derek stared at Stiles and sighed in a deep exaggerated manner like he was the most frustrating person in the entire world. Which so wasn't true. 

 

"Stiles he already knows something's going on."

 

Stiles balked, his eyes wide. "What?!"

 

"He guessed. I didn't tell him anything specifically but he knows a lot of us aren't...normal."

 

Stiles moaned, throwing his head back and staring up at the ceiling, trying to calm the urge to kick Derek in the face. "I'm going to end up traumatized. Haven't you ever seen Back To The Future? What if this messes up present me, Derek?!" He whined, looking back at Derek and sucking in a soft inhale when he found the man's eyes flashing blue, his narrowed gaze on some place below Stiles chin. Stiles swallowed hard, and only then noticed he was still holding Derek's arm. He jerked his hand back like it was on fire and shifted away. "Anyways, can't you just do your thing? Just get him out of there before he goes into full blown panic mode."

 

Finally that familiar glare was back on Stiles before Derek twisted around to knock on the door again. "If you come out we can talk about whatever's bothering you."

 

What the fuck did  _that_ mean?! Did Derek and his younger self  _talk?_ Stiles suddenly felt very naked, zipped open almost and laid bare. He crossed his arms over his stomach and grabbed at each his elbows, frowning deep. He didn't like this. At all. At that age Stiles had been going through a lot of things. The last thing he wanted was for Derek to know just how messed up he had really been. He tried hard to prove that he was strong. That he was capable. He only allowed those closest to him to know about his weakness, like Scott and to an extent Lydia. Despite the fact that he and Derek weren't actually trying to kill each other anymore, Stiles still didn't want the wolf to know that he was broken inside.

 

Derek growled in front of him, his entire body tense, agitated. "He's not going to open the door and his heat beat's just getting faster."

 

Stiles swore sharply, throwing a hand up. "Just bust it open. I know you can."

 

Derek gritted his teeth before nodding. "Genim I'm opening up! Get away from the door!" He paused a moment to give the kid time before grabbing the doorknob and then pushing forward hard with his shoulder. That was all it took. The door swung open and Derek stumbled in, Stiles quickly following behind. He saw Genim sitting in the bath tub, arms wrapped tight around his knee's and rocking back and forth and something inside of him sank, pulled taunt and knotted. He was moving forward immedietly, climbing into the tub and settling behind Genim. He remembered his dad finding him a few times like this as a kid, and just did what he had done. He crowed in behind Genim, his legs stretched at each of his hips, and wrapped an arm around him, lifting a hand to start running it through his long wispy hair. He could hear Genim crying hard into his knee's, no doubt trying to hold the sound back as best as he could, and shushed him, rocking the boy gently. 

 

Stiles tried to ignore the fact that Derek was standing in the doorway staring at them, even though he could feel his heavy gaze on them.

 

Genim's trembling grew stronger in his arms, his sobs sounding choked with agony, and Stiles hated the fact that it was doing something emotional to him as well, making his heart swell painfully and his eyes burn. He continued to run his hand through Genim's hair, trying to calm him. 

 

It took a long time before his sobs had subsided. He was still crying, though no where near as loudly, his entire body slack with defeat and it killed Stiles a little because he knew first hand how it felt. He was feeling it now.

 

"I know Daddy says we shouldn't talk about her, b-but....I miss her. I miss Mom."

 

Stiles shut his eyes, unable to control the first tear's as they finally spilled from his eyes. He nodded his head at the back of Genim's neck and squeezed him a little harder. "I know. I still miss her." He whispered. 

 

"I want to go home." The boy whispers the words so low that Stiles almost didn't hear them.

 

"I know." He muttered. "We're working on it, I promise."

 

They were silent another long moment, and Stiles was glad his face was buried in Genim's hair because he was crying and he couldn't seem to stop himself.

 

"I miss Dad."

 

Stiles lifted his head a little, frowning down at the boy. "What do you mean? He's here."

 

Genim sniffed, shaking his head. "He's not the same. Back home he spends time with me. Here he's just working all the time."

 

Stiles frowned, staring at the porcelain tub a moment before he finally understood. Back then, after his mom's death, his dad had taken a long leave of absence and they had practically spent every minute of the day together. They had both needed the emotional support desperately, and even though a lot of the nights ended up with his dad nursing a bottle of Jack, he was always  _there_ , and that made him feel better. Now though....Jesus, no wonder the kid was so upset. Sure, Genim usually ended up hanging out with Stiles and the rest of the pack, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't what he really needed at this point in his life. He needed his dad. 

 

And Stiles felt fucking horrible because he  _should_ have realized that before now. No wonder the kid had been so moody lately. He sniffed, dragging his arm over his face to try and clear his tears and looked up at Derek, who was watching them silently from the door. "Can you bring me my phone? It's on the coffee table."

 

Derek nodded and turned to go get it.

 

Stiles sighed, laying his forehead on the back of Genim's head. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something, too. I know that it bother's you that Dad doesn't talk about Mom because it used to upset me. But as I got older I understood that it was because he  _couldn't._ He took her death just as hard as you, it's just...people heal differently. He feels like if he talk's about her he's going to break down. And I know how hard that is for you so I wanted to make sure you know that Scott's always going to be there for you if you need to talk, okay? Even if he's only a kid right now. And so is Ms. McCall. Actually, that's the first person I really talked to about Mom. So when you get back you should talk to her, okay? She'll understand."

 

Genim shifted slightly under him before whispering. "I talk to Derek about Mom."

 

Stiles tensed instantly, because he had had a feeling, but it still bothered him. But the last thing he wanted right now was to yell at Genim so he just nodded with a small sigh. "If it helps you then..I guess that's okay."

 

Derek's clearing his throat then, and Stiles fight's back his blush as he hold's his hand out, glad that it's only shaking slightly. He doesn't look up at Derek as the man approaches and hands him his phone, just searches his contacts and then hold's it to his ear. After a few rings his dad pick's up.

 

"Hey, Dad. Listen, I know you're working tonight, but do you think there's anyway you can get someone to cover for you?" Stiles licks his lips, glancing down at Genim as his father's worried voice talks in his hear. "Yeah, no. It's...I just think tonight would be a good night to stay in, you know? Genim's got a crap load of super hero movies to watch still and I imagine he'd enjoy watching them with you." He can feel Genim grow slightly taunt against him and pat's his shoulder before smiling into the phone. "Awesome. Okay, yeah you can just swing by the loft and pick him up. Uh, no. I think I'll stay a little longer at Derek's." He finally glances up at Derek for approval, and the man nod's. "Yeah, I'll just stay here. Alright, I'll see you."

 

Stiles hung up the phone and sat it on the toilet cover before turning to grin down at Genim. "See! All you gotta do is ask, man. Dad's on his way. You guys can stay up binge watching movies and I'll even give him the go ahead to dine on some seriously unhealthy popcorn with extra butter and salt."

 

Genim gave a small grin, but there was still a look on his face like he didn't know if he should dare to hope, and it was horrible to see. 

 

"Now can we get out of this tub? Derek could snap a photo of us at any time and I'll never live it down."

 

Genim finally laughed, nodding his head and standing to climb out. Once he got to the living room he grabbed Derek's hand and pulled him to sit on the couch, and then was looking up at Stiles expectantly. Stiles stood there frozen a moment, unsure what to do. Before he could make a move though Genim was grabbing his hand and pulling him to sit on the other side of the boy, so he was squished in between Stiles and Derek.

 

Stiles tried to relax, but he just couldn't. Especially not when Derek slung his arm on the back of the couch and his hand brushed against Stiles shoulder, becoming a constant weight there that just seemed to get heavier and hotter by the second. He resisted the urge to pull away from the touch, feeling like if he did so it would just make things even more weird. He chanced a glance over again and found both Derek and Genim watching the TV again, seemingly without a care in the world.  Genim's head was leaned slightly over to rest on Derek, and the kid looked happy. Sure, still a little sad and frazzled around the edges, but it was clear that Derek's presence helped calm him considerably. Something inside of Stiles clenched painfully as he looked away, leaving him feeling even more lonely than he already was. 

 

The Sheriff arrived maybe twenty minutes later and Stiles briefly explained what had happened while Derek kept Genim preoccupied. His dad's face dropped instantly, and Stiles could see the guilt there and hated it. By the time they left the knot in Stiles gut had only grew, so painful that felt the need to hunch forward slightly but ignored it. After the loft door shut Stiles was painfully aware of the fact that he and Derek were the only one's left in the loft. He licked dry lips and glanced behind him, but the man was still sitting on the couch, watching the TV. Stiles rubbed absently at his nose. "Bathroom." He muttered before heading down the short hallway and escaping into the small room.

 

It was only after he had gotten the door shut behind him (well was leaning against it because it wouldn't exactly close properly after Derek had busted it in) that he realized the irony of the situation and let out a soft laugh. Because it was funny, really. Just minutes ago he had been trying to get Genim out of the damned bathroom and now here he was. Guess they were the same person after all. For what it was worth Stiles could really see the appeal. The room was small and closed it, and somehow that didn't make Stiles feel caged. It made him feel safer. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. Against his better judgement he glanced over to the bathtub, actually considering crawling into it, but that would just be too ridiculous, right? It didn't matter thought, because as if his life was just one big cosmic joke a soft rapping came at the door he was leaned against. Stiles stiffened, his eyes widening slightly. He knew Derek was out there, and held back a groan. Willing his breathing to even out and his heart to beat a bit slower Stiles cleared his throat. "I'm good." He rasped out, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Because no way in hell was he convincing anyone after that.

 

There was a deep sigh outside of the door, and despite his freak out Stiles had the mind to roll his eyes at the wolf's reaction. 

 

"Stiles, you already know I can just bust down the door."

 

Stiles cringed, drawing slightly away from the wood as if Derek was going to do just that. He realized annoyingly that Derek wasn't going to go away until he was either inside the bathroom or Stiles was out. And consider Stiles really didn't want to be in the small area with the wolf who seemed to take up too much room he stumbled up on shaky legs and hurriedly opened the door. Derek jumped a bit, blinking, apparently surprised Stiles had given in so easily. Stiles forcefully pushed past him, the heat of Derek's shoulder lingering against his own annoyingly as he tried to quickly make his way down the hall, using his hand on the wall to help him along the way. He limbs felt like they were going numb, his body boneless. He knew that soon he wouldn't even be able to walk and eyed the couch anxiously, hoping he would get to it in time.

 

He didn't.

 

Stiles slid to the ground with a groan, but before his knee's could hit the hard floor Derek was suddenly there, a strong arm wrapping around his middle. The man pulled Stiles up against his chest with wide eyes which were worriedly searching Stiles face, and Stiles cringed at the attention, hating that Derek was seeing him like this. 

 

"Down-" Stiles gasped out, weak hands moving up to push against Derek's chest. Derek's brow just furrowed, his grip tightening if anything and that kind of made Stiles freak out a little more. His voice broke on a strangled cry, and he struggled more fully against Derek. "Let me down!" 

 

Derek growled above him before quickly lowering them and releasing Stiles until he slumped down on the floor. Stiles ignored his growl, not knowing if it was one of aggravation or something else. He glared up at Derek as he scooted away until his back was against the wall, and sighed as the cold seeped into his skin through his shirt. Derek kneeled in front of him a moment, but after more glares from Stiles he eventually drew to a stand, just staring down at him while Stiles tried to reign in his panic attack.

 

The loft was silent a long moment, neither speaking, just the sharp gasping breath's of Stiles which eventually shifted to long shuddering ones, and then finally into more normal, even breathing. What did finally break the silence was unexpected.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Stiles jerked his gaze up to Derek with wide eyes. Derek leaned against the wall that separated the hall from the kitchen, and Stiles searched his face, looking for any sign that what he had just heard had actually been real. That it hadn't been his imagination. For once, the wolf's wore more than a blank expression. He looked fucking  _wrecked_. Which made no sense to Stiles, because he was the one that had just had a panic attack. "What?" He finally drew out dumbly, his voice croaked.

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/dereksadstare_zpsjca4nmfx.gif.html)

 

"I know I had no right. I just couldn't tell him no when he needed to talk with someone."

 

_Oh._ Stiles looked away, unable to hold the man's gaze any longer because he couldn't take seeing the worry in his expression any longer. He didn't want Derek to be worried about him. He didn't want him to  _care_. It made this so much harder. He needed Derek to give him those familiar eye rolls and deadpan stares. The furrowed brows of agitation and the firm, thin line of his lips when Stiles pushed him too far. He needed to hear that loud huff of air from his nose, to see the say his shoulders tensed and dropped somehow at the same time. He didn't want  _this_. 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/stilessad_zpsaaawzlgm.gif.html)

 

And he didn't even know why. 

 

Stiles cared about Derek. That was easy enough for him to admit. They had been through a lot together over the years. Yeah, he still had some resentment hanging around in him for Derek leaving so often, but that was normal. Stiles could hold a grudge like no tomorrow. But it didn't really affect how he felt about the man. He trusted him. Honestly he did. In a sense he needed him. There was a sort of... _broken familiarity_ to Derek that Stiles could understand and which made him feel like he wasn't really alone. That there was someone else out there who had been dragged through hell and back and knew loss. God so much loss. Despite their differences he and Derek would always have that. And Stiles kind of felt that he was the same to Derek. Not that he'd ever be brave or sure enough to voice it, but maybe Derek knew that Stiles was there for him just like Stiles knew Derek would always have his back. 

 

Like they always had each other's back's.

 

But even then Stiles saw himself as nothing more than a trusted ally to Derek. Comrades in arms. 

 

But that look on Derek's face, that blatant  _care_..that was more than just allies. That was a look of someone who was genuinely concerned for another. A look like that carried pain that was felt  _because_ of worry. And that was an incredible thing. To think so strongly of someone that your worry for them physically pained you. Stiles knew the look, he had given his fair share to his friends and family. Hell, he had even given it to Derek more than once. And he was okay with that. Honestly he was.

 

It's just...the fact that Derek was giving him that same look did not settle well within Stiles. His chest hurt, aching considerably, and his stomach felt far too hot and strange, like a knot was slowly being pulled lose. But the rope was harsh and splintered, and with each soft tug it dug painfully into the vulnerable parts within Stiles. 

 

"We never talked about anything I didn't already know, if that makes you feel better."

 

He couldn't help but give a slightly bitter laugh. Cause it didn't. Make him feel better. Because even though Derek already knew about his mom, knowing and  _talking about it_ was different entirely. Talking involved emotions. Emotions that Stiles tried to keep at bay when it came to his mom. He didn't like anyone seeing him like that. So broken and defeated. It made him feel weak, and Stiles hated feeling weak. 

 

Derek was sliding downwards then, coming to sit on the floor with his legs spread out long in front of him, and Stiles looked up at him in surprise. Derek wasn't looking at him, just staring down at his hands twined together in his lap, and he looked uncomfortable. Highly so. He was actually twitching, which was something so amusing and unexpected that Stiles couldn't help the slight grin that caught his face, his eyebrow lifted. 

 

"I told him about my mom, too."

 

Something clenched again in Stiles, and he closed his eyes with a soft sigh. He didn't know how. He knew how secretive Derek was, how rarely (if ever) he talked about his past. Stiles was glad that he had felt comfortable enough to talk to Genim about his mother, but a part of him couldn't help but feel jealous. Because they did share such similar pains, Stiles had sometimes imagined the two of them opening up about it. For some reason he always imagined it taking place after some great battle where they had all just barely got out alive by the skin on their teeth. The fact that it had happened like this, when no immediate danger was near or behind them, left him confused and he couldn't help but wonder if Derek would have always been so open if Stiles had just talked to him. 

 

Because he did want someone to talk to about the parts of his past that still hurt him. And there were so many parts. His mom. His dad drinking. Being in love with Lydia for so long and never receiving that back (because though he was over her now, feeling not good enough still stung). The Dourach taking his dad. The Nogitsune and all the death and destruction that had come with it. Even Malia leaving. 

 

Derek leaving.....

 

"I felt like if he were opening up to me it was the least I could do."

 

Stiles really didn't know what to say. "Sorry." It was stupid, he knew. But it was all he had.

 

Derek glanced up at him finally, their eyes locking for a moment before the man shrugged and looked away again. "It's okay. He was scared. Vulnerable." Again with his eyes, and Stiles twitched under his gaze this time, because he knew that though Derek was talking about Genim, Stiles knew he was seeing those same same weaknesses in him now, grown. Well. Older.

 

"I know you're still mad at me, and that's okay. But after....I just - you know you can talk to me, right?"

 

Stiles felt his heart speed up in his ribs and licked his lips nervously. He gave a slight nod, clearing his throat. The air between them felt heavy. The whole situation felt intimate and Stiles was annoyingly aware of that, evident by the hot blush stinging his cheeks. "I do now." He found himself saying softly, wrapping his arms around his middle and looking up again at Derek.

 

There was something in the man's eyes now, some new emotion that Stiles couldn't really put his finger on - but he wondered if his expression was the same because Derek was watching him with that same curious intensity. 

 

And then suddenly a faint white glow was surrounding him. 

 

Stiles jerked back against the wall with wide eyes, staring down at the pendant under his shirt that was glowing. Fucking  _glowing_.

 

"What?" Derek began to rise slowly, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

 

"I don't know!" Stiles gasped, hesitantly touching the chain and pulling the pendant out from under his shirt. The light coming from the vivid jade colored stone shown brighter and he shut his eyes, turning his head from the glare. 

 

"Stiles what the hell is that?" Derek bit out, and he was drawn tense, battle ready.

 

"It's just a present!" Stiles hissed, slipping it over his head and holding it out in front of him. "Lydia gave it to me the other day for my birthday."

 

"Where did she get it?"

 

"What? I don't know! Why does it matter? Do you know what it is?"

 

"No but considering the fact that it's glowing I doubt it's a normal necklace. Has it done this before?!"

 

Something was at the back of Stiles mind then, some fleeting memory that he couldn't quite grasp. "Uh - no. I don't think so. What the hell is it doing?"

 

"I don't know." Derek finally ripped his gaze away from the necklace, heading to the kitchen and vanishing. He reappeared a moment later holding a dishtowel and approached Stiles with it. "We shouldn't touch it until we can get to Deaton's."

 

Stiles nodded agreeably, laying the pendant on the towel and releasing the chain in a spiral around the still glowing stone. Derek looked at it a moment longer before wrapping it up safely, it's glow fading, and then he slipped it into his pocket. He looked up at Stiles then, searching him like he was looking for any wounds. "Are you okay? It didn't do anything?"

 

Stiles shook his head numbly, feeling strangely bare now that the stone wasn't around his neck. "Should we go now?"

 

Derek nodded. "Yeah, come on."

 

Stiles made to follow him just as his phone began to ring. He fished it from his pocket and frowned down at it before swiping the screen. "Dad?"

 

" _Stiles, something's wrong. You need to get over here. I don't know - I have no idea what to do."_

 

He tensed, hunching in a little on himself. "Dad what's going on? Are you okay?"

 

" _I'm fine, Stiles. It's not me. It's Genim!"_ Derek tilted his head across from him, a stern frown on his face. " _Stiles something's happening to him. He's....he's just **fading**."_

 

"He's what? What the hell do you mean fading?"

 

" _I mean he's freaking see through, Stiles! I don't know what to do and he's freaking out!"_

 

Stiles ran his hand through his hair, shaken. "Okay, just - me and Derek are headed to Deaton's. There's some weird stuff going on here, too. Can you take him there? I mean is he...is he even solid?!"

 

John was silent a moment, the sound of soft mutter's filling the line. " _Yeah, yeah. Okay. Alright we're on our way."_

 

Stiles nodded, even though his dad couldn't see it, and ended the call. "You heard that?"

 

Derek nodded, his mouth drawn in a tense line. "Come on."

 

Stiles hurried after him. 

 

 

***************************************

 

_He was vanishing. Holy shit he was really vanishing._ Stiles stared in shock at his younger self standing across from him, his body no longer fully corporeal but slightly see though. Not quite ghost like but still unreal. His dad was talking to Deaton, his voice high and worried, his hands flying about his body in nervous gestures that was reminiscent of Stiles in so many ways. Derek stood beside him, also staring at Genim with wide eyes. 

 

"How?" Stiles just barely managed to get out. 

 

Deaton was approaching Genim then, kneeling down to his level and examining him with a sort of detached scrutiny. "Do you feel any pain?"

 

Genim shook his head but he was still staring around with wide eyed panic, chewing on his shirt sleeve and edging closer to the Sheriff.

 

Deaton nodded after a moment, drawing straight. "My best guess would be that he's returning to his own time."

 

"What? Are you sure?" Stiles asked, drifting closer to Genim because he was starting to feel the panic the boy was projecting.

 

"Unfortunately we still don't know exactly how he ended up here, so at this point it's the best explanation we have." 

 

The Sheriff tsked, moved to kneel down in front of Genim, his eyes worriedly going over him. He reached out a hand slowly, as if he didn't know if his touch would actually...well, touch. But it did. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't feel any pain?"

 

Genim shook his head slowly, blinking rapidly and Stiles knew he was trying to stop himself from crying. "I just feel a little weird and tingly. But it doesn't hurt."

 

"What about this?" Derek was reaching into his jacket then, pulling out the dishtowel. "Earlier at the loft this started glowing and we don't know why. Could it have something to do with Genim fading?"

 

Stiles frowned as he watched Deaton take the towel and slowly unwrap it until his necklace was sitting there. It wasn't glowing anymore, thankfully. 

 

Deaton stared down at it a long while, his brows furrowed before looking up at Derek. "Where did you get this?"

 

Derek turned to Stiles and Stiles cleared his throat, stepping forward. "It's mine. It was a birthday present."

 

"And you were wearing it?"

 

Stiles frowned. "Uh..yeah. Why?"

 

Deaton stared down at the stone again a moment before sitting it on a table. "Just wait right here. And don't touch the stone." He vanished out of a door then, leaving the four of them to stand there with equal frowns of confusion. The Druid returned a moment later, flipping through some pages of a large, well worn book. "I think I've seen this somewhere before." He laid the book on the table and came to a page, his eyes skimming the stylized writing a moment before they grew large. "Oh."

 

Stiles moved forward again. "Oh, what?"

 

Deaton didn't look up at him, just stared down at the stone with this kind of wide eyed wonder that did not settle well in Stiles belly. "You said this was a birthday present? Who gave it to you?"

 

"Lydia did. She said she got it from some shop out of town." He scoffed, annoyed. "Why? What's wrong?"

 

Deaton motioned for them to come closer and then did, staring down at the book where a perfect image of the pendant Stiles had been wearing was. The writing was in a language he didn't know, which was annoying. 

 

"What's it say?"

 

"It appears that you've somehow come to possess a very rare artifact. One that has actually been lost for centuries. It's called the Chintamani Stone. It's last known location was at a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in the late eighteen hundred's."

 

Stiles shook his head. "Cool? So what's the big deal with it?"

 

"Well according to lore," Deaton looked up at him. "It has the ability to grant wishes. Among other things."

 

Stiles suddenly felt like the walls were a little too close. The ceilings a little too low. He licked his lips and let out a huff of air. "Grant wishes?"

 

Deaton nodded, a look in his eyes that was way too knowing for Stiles liking. "Have you made any wishes lately?"

 

He opened his mouth, and silence came out. His mind went to the night of his birthday, where he had been laying on the couch, close to passing out. He remembered how he had held the necklace against his face, the things he had said. " _I wish....."_ He had said the words. But that made no sense. His wish hadn't been granted! 

 

Just then Genim gave a sniffle and reached up to grasp the leather of Derek's jacket, pulling him a bit closer. Derek arched a brow and looked down at him, grinning slightly, and Genim's own pouting frown wobbled a bit until it was a shaken smile.

 

Stiles stared at the sight with wide eyes, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Derek turned to him with a frown, searching his gaze, no doubt hearing his heart's chaotic thundering. 

 

Suddenly things began to slip into place within Stiles mind. Connections sparking to life and answering questions to all of his previous confusion just minutes ago.

 

Why Derek's gaze unnerved him so much. Why Stiles had been so fucking angry at him for vanishing. Why the idea of Derek actually caring for him was so hard to deal with.

 

Stiles....was in love with him. 

 

His eyes widened at the thought and he stumbled back, reaching out to hold onto something and steady himself. Holy shit he was in love with Derek Hale. He was in love with Derek Hale and he was terrified of Derek actually caring for him because then it would only have made it so much harder to ignore. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." Stiles wheezed, making his dad draw towards him with a frown.

 

"Stiles?"

 

Stiles barked out a hard, humorous laugh, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Of fucking course." He drew out. Why? Why was it that every single time he fell in love it had to be with someone who could never love him back? Jesus he was so close to crying it wasn't even funny.

 

"Sheriff!"

 

Stiles pulled his hands away at Derek's sharp voice and looked over to see Genim flashing in and out of focus, the boy's eyes wide, slightly glazed. The Sheriff swore and rushed to his side, his hands passing right through him when he tried to touch him.

 

"Son! Genim!"

 

"I can see my house." Genim muttered softly, even his voice sounding far away. "I'm in my bed again."

 

Stiles stared down at him while his dad and Derek freaked out. Only Deaton seemed calm as well, just looking at Stiles. It made sense. He had gotten his wish, after all. "It's alright." Stiles croaked out. "He's...he's alright. He's going back."

 

The Sheriff turned swiftly to him. "How do you know?"

 

"Because I'm the reason he's here." Stiles admitted with a sigh.

 

Derek stood again, turning his body to Stiles and Stiles barely controlled the urge to back away. "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean I made a wish. I brought him here. And now my wish has been granted so he's going back. I guess the stone's magical properties make it where he - I...didn't remember anything that had happened."

 

"It makes sense." Deaton said, looking down at the Sheriff who was still panicking slightly.

 

"Dad, it's fine." Stiles said softly to him. "I'm fine, so we know everything's okay."

 

"Am I going home?" Genim suddenly spoke, looking up at them with wide eyes. 

 

Stiles sighed before moving to kneel in front of him, forcing a smile on his face. "Yeah, Little Dude. You're going home."

 

Genim beamed, his entire face transforming. Shinning. He looked up at his dad standing beside them, before the boy's gaze drifted somewhere behind Stiles shoulder, and Stiles knew without looking that Derek was standing behind him. Genim frowned slightly, hips lips dipping in sadness. "Bye." He whispered so softly it was almost inaudible.

 

Derek didn't say anything behind him, but Stiles wondered what expression might have been on his face. He refused to turn around and find out, though. Instead he just rolled his eyes a bit. "Oh don't be so dramatic. It's not like you're not going to see everyone again."  _See him._

 

Genim finally turned his gaze back to Stiles then, and smiled shyly, nodding. "I'm going to miss you."

 

Stiles snorted. "Sure you are. Just...try to be happy, alright?"

 

And then something happened, something strange and a little out of place. A sort of wise knowing darkened Genim's eyes, his expression softening just the slightest as he held Stiles gaze. "You too."

 

And then he was gone.

 

Stiles stayed there a long moment, staring at the place where he had been, before rising on shaky legs. Everyone was quiet in the room, most likely too overcome by everything that had happened so far. Stiles let them have their silence, for once. He moved to where the necklace was, and folded it back up in the towel, turning to hand it to Deaton. "I assume you're going to put this somewhere safe?"

 

Deaton looked at him a moment before nodding, taking the necklace. "Indeed."

 

Stiles nodded, clearing his throat. "Great." He turned, beginning to head towards the door. "Dad, you ready to go?"

 

The Sheriff frowned, turning to him. "Just like that. You're not even going to explain?"

 

Stiles shook his head. "Nope."

 

"Son -"

 

"Dad!" Stiles stopped, drawn stiff, he turned slightly but did not look behind him. He couldn't. Not yet at least. "Just...can we not talk about this right now? I just...It doesn't even matter anyways. Nothing bad happened."

 

There was silence behind him before his dad let out a deep sigh, and then he was heading for the door. "I'll expect an explanation at some point, just so you know."

 

Stiles sighed, his shoulders slumped. "Yeah I know." He mumbled. 

 

He was aware of Derek behind him, still standing there. More aware than he had ever been. But he didn't turn around and look at him before he headed out the door. He just couldn't. He was scared that Derek would take one look at him and know everything.

 

Because Stiles was in love with the man, and he had never been anything but obvious when he was in love.

 

He had no idea what he was going to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first part was about Stiles realizing he was in love with Derek. The second will be about Derek realizing he is in love with Stiles. It will have a bit more angst, but still lots of humor, and some danger will be involved as well. Yay! And of course the second part will be rated Explicit. He he. Hope you guys liked the first!!!

**Author's Note:**

> 1st part just meant to be cute and cuddly lol 2nd will have more mature rating


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